


Heartless

by actualhqtrash



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi and Suga are best friends, Akaashi fucks literally everyone, Akaashi is kinda an asshole, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bokuto is a simp, Endgame BokuAka, Eventual Romance, Everyone Needs A Hug, Heartless Akaashi, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Multi, Multiple Partners, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Smut, Sugar Baby Akaashi, Sugar Daddy Terushima, but for a reason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:08:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 80,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28145115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualhqtrash/pseuds/actualhqtrash
Summary: It wasn’t that Akaashi didn’t want to be normal, it was just that he enjoyed this life too much. He relished in it, the thrill of the recklessness with no consequences whatsoever; it made his head pump with adrenaline and experience that of a high no one would be able to fathom.--Akaashi is known for his cold, heartless, calm demeanor, one that prevents him from having any sort of romantic relationship. That is, until he meets Bokuto.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji/Miya Atsumu, Akaashi Keiji/Suna Rintarou, Akaashi Keiji/Suna Rintarou/Miya Atsumu, Akaashi Keiji/Terushima Yuuji, Akaashi Keiji/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Mentioned Akaashi Keiji/Semi Eita, Mentioned Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, mentioned Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 198
Kudos: 207





	1. Heartless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for chapter: Heartless - The Weeknd

It wasn’t that Akaashi didn’t _want_ to be normal, it was just that he enjoyed this life too much. He relished in it, the thrill of the recklessness with no consequences whatsoever; it made his head pump with adrenaline and experience that of a high no one would be able to fathom.

Being an adult and finally having control of what he does -- _who_ he lets into his body feels surreal, even now. But he’s been doing this too long for any of that to still have a shock factor on him. To have complete control was euphoric for Akaashi.

However, moments like _these_ made his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Are you leaving already?” 

“C’mon Kuroo,” he sighed, pulling his shirt over his head. “I have places to be, and you know I never stay. This isn’t like that.”

Akaashi darted his eyes to the man besides him. The tattoos scattered on his body evident among his pale skin, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. He was pretty, Akaashi _will_ give him that, but beauty has no effect on him, not when it came to these types of things. 

Kuroo furrowed his eyebrows, crease forming between them as he rubbed his arm, clearly hurt by Akaashi’s retort. “You don’t have to act like that though, you know?”

Akaashi scoffed, shoving his legs into his jeans. He turned his upper half to look at Kuroo as he zipped himself up, a hand placing itself on Kuroo’s black sheets to deter from fiddling with his fingers.“Oh, I’m sorry, do we have to have _that_ conversation again? You already know what I agreed to --”

“Yeah, yeah. Forget about it, just let me know when you get home,” Kuroo huffed, eyes scanning Akaashi’s face for any sort of guilt: there was none. Kuroo has been seeing him for so long, yet he can’t quite seem to figure out his mindset or decipher how he _actually_ feels, if he did at all. One thing he knew for sure though, was that he was cold and ruthless. Akaashi didn’t care for him, yet here Kuroo was, behind him like a lost puppy. The raven haired man was only of use to Akaashi for one thing and one thing only, yet part of the older man had grown to be ok with it, but that dull ache in the back of his heart still remained: he wanted more, but could never be more, or even mean anything to him, and that’s just the way things were. 

That’s just who Akaashi is.

A tinge of annoyance burst within Akaashi and it made the ends of his lip twitch. He never understood why the older man wanted more out of this, why he would want _him_ ? People get so attached to others, even when given a reason not to; it stirred a deep anger within the pit of his stomach. Why did Kuroo even feel he had the right to be part of Akaashi’s personal life? Why on _earth_ did he feel entitled to even know if he got home? His teeth clenched. 

“See you,” Akaashi said curtly, grabbing his wallet and keys off of Kuroo’s bedside table, a dull ache in his back from being contorted in odd positions for the past hour. 

Akaashi had work in an hour and he had to get home, which conventionally was only a couple blocks away from Kuroo’s place. It’s why he let him see him so much. And he made sure Kuroo knew that as well. He was _convenient_. 

It was that awkward time of the year, when it was neither hot nor cold, where wearing a sweatshirt was too much but a tank was too little, it made Akaashi shift awkwardly in his jean jacket and jeans as he waited for the crosswalk’s light to turn green. He took a glance at the coffee shop where he worked at, sighing when he saw the dining area outside was more packed than usual. He loved living in the heart of the city where everything was at an arm's reach from his apartment. 

He shoved his earphones into his ears, blasting his favorite playlist as he continued his short walk to his home, and began thinking. 

Was he being _too_ heartless?

_No_ , Akaashi thought. There were clear boundaries he set between himself and Kuroo, and he knew how staying longer than for what he went for was too much for Akaashi. He didn’t want Kuroo to get the wrong idea nor did the intimacy of laying in bed with someone after having sex with them sound appealing. He was going to have to sit down with Kuroo and talk about that, because he didn't like what he pulled today, _at all._

The two have had their little affair for a few months now, now falling into routine visits to each other's homes every other day. Kuroo was Akaashi’s regular at the moment, and by far his best hook up to date. He’s had other long term flings with people before, but Kuroo was _exactly_ his type _and_ he was _super_ good in bed. 

That doesn’t mean there weren’t others though, because there were definitely a few. They all knew that too though.

Akaashi would never begin this type of relationship with someone without letting them know that they wouldn’t be the only person he was seeing. It wasn’t respectful, nor did he want to deal with the drama of being seen with someone else. Transparency was needed in non-romantic sexual relationships, especially when having multiple partners at once.  
  


At times, that felt like the most human thing Akaashi has ever done. That thought stung a bit too hard and he shook it away, not wanting to deal with that at the moment. Or ever, really. 

He entered the code to enter his building and made his way to the elevator, pushing the button to head to the fifth floor. He began thinking about work again, a part of him hoping Terushima would come in to see him again. It wasn’t that he liked the man, but he was the most fond of him than anyone else he was seeing. And it had been a while since he was able to meet up with Akaashi. Terushima was the only man Akaashi allowed to spoil him. Part of him also secretly enjoyed when he came in because Koushi would always fawn over him as well. Akaashi would be lying if he said that didn't boost his ego to godly levels. 

Akashi stepped inside his apartment after unlocking it, stepping out of his shoes and breathing in the familiar scent of his home, a small smile on his face as the scent of his favorite candle hit his nose. 

Despite the little stunt Kuroo pulled earlier, he felt pretty good. Maybe that was because he got dick, though. 

  
  



	2. Pretty Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slightly mature content in this chap but nothing too explicit :)
> 
> \--
> 
> chapter's song: Pretty Boy - Joji

Akashi was _buzzing_ with excitement. Part of him wanted to believe it was the atmosphere around him: the music bouncing off the walls of the club, alcohol in his system, and being surrounded by the other people on the dance floor. But a part of him was also aware it was because of Terushima. 

His back was up against the front of the blond man, swaying his hips with his as his left hand gripped onto the back of Terushima’s neck, pulling softly at the small hairs there, and pushing his bottom half slightly into Terushima’s, the others hands resting directly on his hips. He felt the older man lean into Akaashi’s neck, bared out for him, and placed a gentle kiss there, forcing the younger to let out a breathy sigh. 

“If you keep doing that we’re gonna have to get outta here ‘Kaashi.” His voice made Akaashi’s insides rumble with desire, and he pushed back slightly harder, turning his face towards Terushima’s. 

Akaashi smirked lightly, eyes glazing over as he looked up into Terushima’s brown ones, “Let’s get a few more songs in and we can head to mine, yeah?” Earning a satisfied hum, Akaashi turned around to face the taller man, pulling their bodies close; he knew Terushima _loved_ it. He _loved_ being coddled and having Akaashi like this, for everybody to see. 

They were at the city’s most popular club, getting in mostly due to Terushima being so well known around these parts. Akaashi _loved_ seeing Terushima, as much as he hated admitting it and would _never_ say such a thing out loud. Something about him was just so alluring, be it his confidence or his carefreeness. Akaashi loved the simplicity of being around him and enjoying himself, because the two men acknowledged and understood it was just that: fun. 

The song they were dancing to ended, and suddenly one of Akaashi’s favorite songs came on, him and Terushima almost getting whiplash from how fast they turned to look at each other with goofy smiles plastered onto their faces. 

“I feel like I’m in a movie right now,” Akaashi let out a laugh, arms wrapped around the back of the others neck as they swayed to the song together, chemistry evident between the two as they moved in sync with one another. Terushima nodded in agreement with a grin adorning his lips, watching as Akaashi’s eyes glazed over in bliss. His grip on Akaashi’s waist tightened as the first chorus of the song erupted throughout the club and their foreheads pressed together. Akaashi pressed his palms against the others chest, feeling his muscular torso through the black button up he was wearing, muscles tensing up as his fingers pressed into them gently. Their eyes were locked, and Akaashi couldn’t bring himself to look away as Terushima grazed his fingers along the curve of his face, thumb going over his bottom lip and pulling on it enough for it to snap back as he dragged his nail over it. 

He’s never felt the energy Terushima was giving him before, and he couldn’t help but feed off the enticing stare he was receiving from his dark eyes. He knew Terushima felt the exact same way. 

Akaashi was the first to break eye contact, part of him feeling it was too much, even in his buzzed state of mind. He threw his head back, eyes meeting with himself as the ceiling was one huge mirror.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if I got mirrors installed into the ceiling above my bed?” Akaashi mumbled, lips pursed in deep thought. He felt Terushima’s ragged breath hit the shell of his ear, unconsciously making him lean into his lips. 

“Mhm, that way you could watch that pretty little face of yours when I fuck you.”

Akaashi’s ears blushed a deep shade of pink, head snapping down to meet eyes with his dance partner, whose eyes were now dark, a smirk perched upon his lips. He leaned forward even more, a deep breath ringing in Akaashi’s ears before he spoke. 

“Let’s go, yeah Keiji?” 

Akaashi’s eyes widened at the use of his given name and he nodded feverishly, grabbing Terushima by the wrist and leading the way out. Usually Akaashi would scold Terushima for using his given name, because he only allowed certain people to call him it, but right now the five margaritas he had in his system made him not care so much. The two men quickly exited the club and got into the back of Terushima’s black SUV who was waiting outside the entrance of the club, his valet asking, “where would you like me to take you Terushima-san?” 

“To Akaashi’s, please. And could you put up the divider Daichi-san?” He smiled, eyes crinkling upwards, mirroring the edges of his lips, large hands gripping Akaashi’s upper thigh. 

“Of course, sir.” 

Times like these were when Akaashi appreciated the little things Terushima had because of his money. The amount of times that divider has come in handy was _ridiculous_. As soon as the divider was up all the way and the valet, reading the room, began playing some music, the two connected lips, hands all over each other’s bodies. 

Akaashi let Terushima take control, his hand coming up to his neck and giving it a quick squeeze as their lips moved against one another’s. The younger breathed into the kiss, a whiny sigh escaping his lips when Terushima began kissing down his jaw, leading to the shell of his ear where he took the tip of it into his mouth and sucked lightly, making Akaashi squirm in his seat when he felt the cool metal of his piercing rub up against the skin. He brought his hand to Terushima’s thigh, digging his nails into the inside of his thigh and feeling the other spread his legs slightly, to give him access. His hand came up to palm him through his dress pants as their tongues meddled with one another just outside their mouths, Akaashi wrapping his lips around the tip of Terushima’s, tongue circling his piercing teasingly. 

Terushima hummed in approval, separating their mouths with a string of saliva connecting them, Akaashi panting and wanting nothing more than to be taken right here and now, eyes hooded with desire. The blond gave a gentle squeeze to the brunette's neck, bringing him onto his lap and snaking his fingers around the tan skin until they found themselves tangled into the back of his curls and gave a slight tug to them, tilting Akaashi’s head back to bare his neck for him. 

“My pretty boy, I missed having you like this, you know?” Terushima kissed down his neck, licking and sucking as he went but not leaving any marks, as he knew Akaashi didn’t like that. 

“Me too,” Akaashi purred, “kiss me, please,” he pleaded, desperate for some kind of contact with the man. He was drowning in his familiar scent, head registering it as the cologne Akaashi had told him he liked; it made him swoon in the worst possible way. Terushima knew what he was doing, and it was driving Akaashi crazy. 

Terushima brought their faces close together, lips just barely grazing, making Akaashi drunkenly lean forward for more, but Terushima brought a hand between their chests, “We’re here sweetheart.” 

Akaashi was brought back to reality, eyes no longer zoned in on the other’s lips. He perched himself off of Terushima’s lap and watched with curious eyes as Terushima stepped out of the car, holding out his hand for Akaashi. He smiled softly, letting Terushima help him out of the car, a hand resting on the small of his back as he ordered Daichi to go home, as he would be staying the night here, and he would call him when he needed to be picked up.

Their relationship was different. 

It wasn’t romantic in any way, nor intimate. Terushima was the reason Akaashi had a roof over his head, and was the reason his school was all paid for. None of it was forced, nor did Akaashi felt he owed the man anything because he provided him with all these things. It was just the dynamic that worked for them and they were both comfortable with. Of course they cared for each other, if they hadn’t they wouldn’t be in the position they were in right now. Though, it did take a while. 

In simple terms, Terushima had money, and he wanted Akaashi, and Akaashi wanted Terushima. It was an agreement, the same way Akaashi had agreements with Kuroo and his other partners’, except that they were each at the others disposal in their own ways. 

One of the reasons they worked so well was because they had the same mindset. Life shouldn’t be taken so seriously. People were experiences that deserved to be felt. Attachment was not necessary to have a good time, nor was love. There was no need for commitment to live life to the fullest, and traditional labels weren’t needed to feel the same happiness as others. 

Or maybe, they were both just as fucked up in the head. 

Either way, they couldn’t deny that the others presence was too enticing not to indulge in.

Terushima entered the code of the building and walked into the lobby, hand gripping Akaashi’s wrist; he knew he didn’t like to hold hands. The two men walked into the elevator, waiting for the doors to close and lead them to Akkashi’s floor. Terushima leaned against the wall of the elevator, Akaashi pressed up against his chest. 

“It is ok if I stay over yeah? I should have asked before. I know you don’t let others stay the night.”

It never failed to comfort Akaashi when Terushima would say things like this, when he was reassured that this was ok to do, and it was ok to feel the way he did about certain things. 

It made a part of him feel like he was normal.

A lot of his partners failed to make him feel this way. Part of Akaashi never felt like the boundaries he would set with others were normal, or like they were too much. Kuroo was a prime example of that, because he wanted more than what Akaashi had to offer, yet Terushima relished in what Akaashi gave him, worshipped him, and made him feel like enough in this world that loved adding meaning to anything and everything. 

Akaashi could hear the genuine concern in his voice and he couldn’t help but smile lightly. He toyed with the ends of the hairs on the back of the blond’s neck. “Of course, you know I’m always ok with it when it’s you, but thank you for being considerate. Even if it was a little late,” he teased, grabbing Terushima by the collar of his dress shirt, pressing his thigh into the front of his jeans and their lips together. Terushima’s hands made their back way onto the small of the others back, sliding down to cup his ass roughly. 

The elevator dinged open just as their lips were about to meet and Terushima grabbed Akaashi by the waist, both men slightly swaying as they approached Akaashi’s apartment. Akaashi took his key out and shoved the key inside, breath picking up as he felt Terushima’s fingers undoing his belt, occasionally dipping down to brush the tip of his dick through his pants, making Akaashi’s hands shake slightly as he _finally_ pushed the door open and shoved Terushima inside, slipping his shoes off as he locked the door behind him, watching the other do the same behind him. 

He didn’t wait for Terushima before throwing his keys onto the table by the entrance and making his way towards his bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked. 

Akaashi had made sure to clean up before having Terushima over, and even put his nice black satin sheets on his bed, as a part of him had already known Terushima was going to stay over, as every once in a while the two would go clubbing or to fancy restaurants that would eventually lead to the blond coming over and doing _very_ dirty things to Akaashi. Terushima always told Akaashi that he didn’t owe him a space in his bed, even after spending a night together. 

But, Akaashi genuinely enjoyed having Terushima in his presence, sometimes it almost felt as if they were close friends. 

Except, they weren’t. Because that’s just too intimate. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! just a heads up that the first couple chapters will be lots of intros to how akaashi acts around partners as i want y'all to get a general idea of how he acts and whatnot, hope you guys enjoyed :)


	3. Molang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: there is a slight mention of recreational drug use and drinking in this chapter!
> 
> \--
> 
> chapter's song: Molang - Payday

“Your life sounds like a movie Keiji,” Suga sighed, tying his apron in the front in order for the string not to show. Akaashi had just finished telling him about his weekend with Terushima, sparing  _ no  _ details. 

Akaashi let out a string of giggles, rolling his eyes as he leaned on the marble counter, looking up at Suga through his glasses. “I mean, yeah, sometimes,” he shrugged, but deep down he did agree with him. Sometimes it seemed surreal how on track Akaashi was to having everything he wanted, mostly thanks to Terushima. But god, did he know he deserved it,  _ all of it _ .

He’s been through too much to not be at least content with this part of his life. 

“Oh shut up, I could only  _ dream  _ about having a man like Terushima drooling over me,” Suga spoke, slipping his notepad and pen into the pocket of his apron. “You have him wrapped around your finger,” he snorted, leaning on the counter beside Akaashi. 

Akaashi shook his head. “You know it’s not like that Koushi, he’s just very… understanding. I mean -- we’re basically the same person,” Akaashi thought out loud, noting that they in fact were pretty similar. Maybe that was why he was actually able to stand him, go out with him, and sometimes just hang out and not even do anything inherently sexual. But, of course there were times Akaashi didn’t want to see Terushima or have sex with him, and vice versa. They had very similar personalities -- blunt, headstrong, objective, yet somehow reckless.

Suga looked at Akaashi in disbelief, straightening his back as he jumped onto the counter, and brought up his palm to slap the back of Akaashi’s neck.

“What the fuck!” 

“Keiji, listen to yourself! Are you trying to tell me that the man who has paid your rent and bills _every month_ for the past -- what? _Two years!_ As well as all your school! And just randomly sends you gifts and money and comes to this mediocre café even though he is a literal _millionaire--_ _just to see you_ is _not_ in love with you? _Please!”_ His arms waved around in exasperation. 

“He’s not!” 

Another slap to the back of the neck.

“You’re ridiculous Keiji, and I am jealous I don’t live your life,” he sighed, bringing his elbows to his knees. “Guess I’ll just have to vicariously live through you!” Suga winked, giving Akaashi’s shoulder a squeeze as the younger rubbed the back of his neck, a small smile on his face. He missed Koushi, a lot. It had been a while since their schedules had lined up.

Koushi was Akaashi’s person, to say the least. Sometimes it felt as if he understood Akaashi better than Akaashi understood himself. The things he was saying right now were taken lightheartedly, because he knew he didn’t mean it in a bad way, nor was he really genuine. And Akaashi and Suga  _ both  _ knew Suga was too warm and caring to be able to sustain the type of relations Akaashi had without becoming attached -- Suga loved  _ hard _ . Plus, Suga didn’t deserve to live the life Akaashi had; Koushi deserved the universe and more. What Akaashi had going for himself was anything but that -- it was a selfish, coldhearted thing. 

But that’s ok, because that’s just who Akaashi is. And he had come to terms with this part of himself a long time ago. 

“You know, if you’re not busy after work you should come spend the night. Terushima brought me an expensive bottle of tequila from a business trip of his to the states a few weeks ago,” Akaashi looked up at Koushi with hopeful eyes and pursed lips, waiting for him to agree. 

“Uh, you know I’m  _ always  _ down!” Suga exclaimed, hopping off the counter as he heard the chime of the front door, signaling someone came into the café. His eyebrows raised when he saw an all too familiar blond walk in. “Speak of the devil -- looks like you have company. I’ll go make myself busy in the back,” he whispered in a sing-song voice, making Akaashi roll his eyes playfully. 

Akaashi watched as Terushima sat at his favorite booth, the one at the very edge of the café where he had a view of the inner part of the city as well as the best view of Akaashi. He sat down with a huff, leaning his chin into the palm of his hand.

Today he came more casual than usual, as he had a bad habit of always overdressing, no matter the occasion. Seems like Akaashi has finally bullied him enough to get him to dress down. He wore a black beanie and a shirt and pants to match, with a brown leather jacket on top, his yellow sneakers painfully sticking out, making Akaashi huff out a laugh through his nose. 

“Terushima-san,” Akaashi approached the booth, notepad in hand. 

“If it isn’t the prettiest waiter in all of Tokyo,” Terushima smirked, noting that because the café was empty -- as it was almost closing time -- it was ok to grip the small of his back and bring him down for a quick kiss. 

“Ah, gonna have to tip me big for that, I don’t usually kiss customers,” Akaashi teased, giving a light slap to the others chest, leaning his hip against the table flirtatiously. 

“‘Usually?’ I’m hurt! Are you kissing other customers behind my back Akaashi-san?” Terushima raised a brow at him, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning towards the pretty boy across from him. 

“Just a few,” Akaashi winked. “Black tea?” 

Terushima nodded, “And a slice of strawberry cheesecake, please,” he beamed, watching as Akaashi decided against writing his order down on his notepad. What an odd combo, Akaashi thought. He let Terushima know he’d be back, retrieving an extra slice of cheesecake on Terushima’s plate so he could sit down with him and eat one with him, as well as his tea. As he walked by the front door he flipped the sign to “closed” and turned the lock shut. 

Akaashi slid into the booth across from Terushima after setting the dishes down, earning a raised brow from the blond when he saw Akaashi sit down. It was rare Akaashi would ever pull things like this -- so it meant he was in a  _ very  _ good mood. Terushima smiled at the gesture, watching as Akaashi ate a chunk of his cheesecake with Terushima’s fork. 

“How was work?” Terushima asked, taking a sip of his black tea, noting Akaashi put in the sugar that he liked into it. 

“Eh, you know, same old, same old. It wasn’t very busy today -- but then again it is like -- what? Tuesday?” Akaashi questioned, earning a nod from the man across from him. 

Terushima didn’t really find himself in restaurants like these -- actually, this is probably the only one he's been to in years in this part of the city, as it really isn’t his scene. He occasionally passes by when he knows Akaashi will be there though, just to catch a few glances of him or get a quick kiss. He just enjoyed the others presence and liked cracking dirty jokes that would make the tips of his ears turn pink. 

“Why are you here? I mean -- not complaining, but I thought you were going to be out of the city for a couple more days, no?” The cheesecake in his mouth made it hard to understand him, but Terushima nodded, “I was supposed to be longer to wait on a client’s decision but it seemed their minds were already made up when I got there, so I was only there for, like, two days.”

Terushima owned a company of electronics, one of the biggest in Japan -- well, it was his father’s company, and now here he is, company and all inherited to him. He liked what he did though, and it definitely made  _ very  _ good money, so he wasn’t going to complain. He was able to spoil Akaashi with how much he made, so that was a plus. 

“Ah, I see. I would have invited you over to stay if you would have told me! I just invited Koushi to have some drinks at my apartment and spend the night,” a frown made its way onto Akaashi’s face -- upset that he wouldn’t be able to have Terushima to himself, but he also would much rather hang out with Suga. 

“That’s alright, maybe next time I’ll be lucky enough to catch you at a good time. Do you two need a ride home?”

Akaashi snorted, “I live like five minutes away from here.”

“Uh, ok? I can’t be a gentleman?” Terushima deadpanned, fork swaying in his hands in question. 

Akaashi cleaned his fork of the bite he took and leaned forward, foot caressing the side of Terushima’s calf under the table. “Are you trying to impress me? I think we’re  _ far  _ past that stage, don’t you think so, Terushima-san?” Terushima stared at him with hooded eyes, leaning back into his seat and let out a breathy chuckle, breaking eye contact with the brunette across from him. 

“You really are something else Akaashi,” he chuckled, sipping the last of his cup of tea. 

Akaashi ended up allowing Terushima to take him and Suga back to his apartment, and soon the two men were perched on Akaashi’s bed, playing cards scattered across the mattress and the smell of cheap weed and expensive alcohol filling the room. 

Suga hiccupped as he exhaled smoke. “Bro, did you  _ see _ his fucking driver? Holy  _ shit _ !”

“Daichi-san?” Akaashi questioned, taking the joint from his friend’s fingers, bringing it to his lips and taking a deep hit.

“He was  _ gorgeous _ ! Did you see his arms? Oh my god, I  _ need  _ him,” Suga whined, throwing himself back onto Akaashi’s pillows. He sat up suddenly, eyes narrowing at Akaashi, “You haven’t done him have you?”

Akaashi gaped, hands going to cover his mouth in shock, “You’re asking if I’ve done Terushima’s valet?! Of course not! I -- Who do you think I am? Plus I would have told you if I had!” 

“Why are you even surprised I’m asking? You’re  _ Akaashi Keiji  _ \-- I -- you pulled a millionaire, a professional volleyball player, and a fucking  _ Olympian --  _ and that’s only naming a few! You can have whoever you want!” Suga exclaimed, his glass shaking the liquid inside it vigorously as he counted down some of the higher up men Akaashi has been with. 

“If I  _ did,  _ Terushima probably wouldn’t like that, plus he’s not really my type,” Akaashi thought, pressing a finger against his chin. It’s not that he cared what Terushima thought of him, nor did he necessarily care about how he would view his personal life decisions, because he had no right to judge his decisions, as they weren't anything -- but the man  _ did  _ provide him with a lot, and that would be over the line, even for Akaashi. Terushima and Daichi were pretty close, even if he was just his employee, it wouldn’t be human of Akaashi to do that, even though he did  _ know  _ he could if he wanted to, most likely. 

“Keiji you have to get me his contact information,  _ please _ .”

Akaashi let out a laugh, nodding in agreement as he sipped on the straw of his margarita. 

Suga began gathering the Uno cards they were playing with, about to begin shuffling them when he looked up at Akaashi with a raised brow, “How are things with Kuroo? Have you talked to him since last time?” 

Suga knew Akaashi had a  _ huge  _ thing about his boundaries -- he had every right to. Akaashi was a very straightforward person, which was both a blessing and a curse in Suga’s eyes, as he knew that his bluntness was sure to hurt someone with a soft heart. Suga never saw the appeal to the types of relationships Akaashi has, as Suga was one of those soft-hearted people, but he tried his best to understand for Keiji. Being able to empathize with the younger’s thought process was the least he could do for him, he deserved to be understood. Suga frowned at that thought; Keiji deserved more from this life, and he was glad he was finally getting everything he’s ever wanted and wasn’t the way he was when they were in high school. 

“Ugh!” Akaashi groaned, rolling his eyes. “I still can’t believe he said that to me, especially after this long. Not to be  _ that  _ person, but what makes him think I’m suddenly going to change my ways, you know? He’s acting like he’s some sort of special snowflake, when he’s not. It makes me want to drop him, but -- but the  _ sex _ Koushi, oh my  _ god _ ,” Akaashi scoffed, brows lifting as he reminisced and took a sip of his drink, handing Koushi the joint after he finished giving out the cards once more.

“You know,” Suga paused, unsure of how to say what he wanted to. He’s never had this conversation with Akaashi, but he knew it was something he  _ knew _ , Keiji was the most self-aware and reflective person he knew. 

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, or feel like I’m judging you or anything. I know your morals and I know you’re not very traditional or anything --”

“You can say it, it’s ok,” Akaashi smiled softly, hopefully getting it through to Suga that it was ok to say whatever he wanted to.

“Do you think you’ll ever stop? The types of relationships you have, I mean. You don’t want to ever settle down with one person and, I don’t know, live with them, marry, and maybe have kids?” 

Akaashi was taken aback, head tilting slightly as he thought about what suddenly brought this up, but it was as if Koushi read his mind. 

“I’m only asking because we’re getting older, you know? We’re almost done with school and basically about to start our  _ real  _ adult lives,” Suga mumbled, not paying any more mind to the card game in front of him, watching as Akaashi gathered his thoughts.

“I’d like to think that one day I’ll be able to feel deeply for another person again. It’s not that I’ve ‘lost hope’ or anything, I’m just being realistic. I know I’m not hard to love, but people are hard for me to love. Mostly because of the experiences I’ve had, especially with men,” Akaashi shuffled uncomfortably, not really used to having conversations like these with Koushi, and he began to fiddle with the ring around his index finger. It felt refreshing though, and part of him was grateful that Koushi was able to push his emotional boundaries in a way that was challenging to Akaashi. It wasn’t often he would talk about his feelings. Not talking about them made them not feel so real. 

“And I like the relationships I have with everyone I have right now, they’re not overly complicated, and everyone gets what they want out of it, you know? Maybe except for Kuroo,” Akaashi giggled, eliciting a small laugh from Suga as well, to lighten the mood. 

“But I’m not unhappy Koushi,” Akaashi shot Suga a soft smile, hoping it was enough to bring some sort of comfort to his friend. “I’d be completely fine with being alone, maybe just having a kid of my own, giving them everything. I’d be content with that.” 

Suga nodded, trying to fit the pieces to Akaashi’s own life, and it did make sense. Akaashi has always wanted a child, but never mentioned anything about marriage. Though, part of Suga was sad that Keiji felt he couldn’t love another person the way that they love him. 

“Would you be ok with just being content your whole life, though?” 

Suga worried that it was too heavy of a question by the look Keiji gave him, mouth opening and closing as he tried to form words, brows furrowed, a slight down curve of his lips. He was about to wave his hands, to tell Akaashi to dismay the question, when he responded. 

“Some of us can  _ only  _ be content in this life, Koushi,” Akaashi finally said, satisfied with his answer. He felt if he said more a part of him would snap, and he didn’t want to deal with that. 

Suga shot him a tight smile and shuffled off of Akaashi’s bed, disappearing somewhere in the darkness that enveloped the apartment. He came back with the bottle of tequila they had drinking from the past couple of hours, a devilish smirk on his face. 

“Time for another shot!” 

Akaashi held his little Las Vegas shot glass up for Suga to fill it, and waited as he filled his up as well. Suga’s shot glass was from San Francisco. 

“To the hope that we’ll  _ both  _ feel deeply for someone again,” Suga smiled, holding his glass up for Akaashi to clink it with his. Akaashi’s eyes wrinkled into a big smile, “To feeling deeply!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the interactions between Suga and Akaashi! I REALLY enjoyed writing this chapter and giving more of an insight on Akaashi's mindset! :)


	4. I'm Having Sex Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING:VERY explicit content throughout the whole chapter!
> 
> \--
> 
> song for chapter: I'm Having Sex Tonight - GRLwood

Akaashi breathed out heavily, watching as Kuroo loomed over him, a fire burning  _ hot  _ in his core at the sight. He was grabbed by his face roughly, eyes glossed over as he looked up at the raven haired man above him, a smirk making its way onto his face. 

He could tell Kuroo was fuming with genuine anger, but this always happened whenever Akaashi had to put him in his place, and he would be lying if he were to say he didn’t enjoy watching Kuroo get this way. 

“You little  _ slut,  _ you like coming to me just for this huh? For me to use you however I want?” Kuroo hissed, pushing Akaashi further into his mattress, fingers digging into the soft skin of his face. 

“Yes, sir,” Akaashi purred, eyes not breaking contact with Kuroo’s dark ones, begging for him to do something about it. He was taunting Kuroo, and god, did Akaashi  _ love  _ it. He  _ loved  _ pushing Kuroo over the edge, getting him to rough up on Akaashi without any sense of holding back. The smug smile on his face made Kuroo go over the edge, giving the boy a slap to the cheek, enough to leave a light red mark but never to bruise. 

Akaashi gasped, letting out a breathy laugh as he composed himself from the smack he received; it made his core hot all over. “What are you gonna do about it Kuroo-san? Wanna teach me a lesson?” He hummed, voice coming out playful yet completely meaning the words that left his mouth. 

Kuroo tensed above him, feeling his cock twitch at Akaashi’s bratty attitude; he  _ loved  _ when Akaashi got like this, it let the nasty side of Kuroo come out and he absolutely  _ relished  _ in it. 

He grabbed the brunette by his hair, forcing him up and off the bed, and pushed him onto his knees, standing up while doing so. He undid his belt and threw it to the side, watching as Akaashi all but drooled on his knees, waiting for Kuroo to instruct him, though he obviously knew what was coming. 

“Suck it like you fucking  _ mean  _ it,” Kuroo spat out, voice impossibly deep and demanding. His dick sprung free from his tight pants, hitting his stomach with a quiet slap, and he grabbed Akaashi by the back of his hair, tugging his head back. “And don’t use your hands. I’m gonna fuck your mouth.” 

Akaashi bit his lip to hold back a smile, hands going limp at his sides as he opened his mouth for Kuroo, waiting for him to shove himself past his lips. It was a blessing in disguise sometimes that Akaashi had no gag reflex, and right now he was  _ so  _ thankful for it. 

Kuroo grabbed the younger boy by the chin, guiding his mouth towards his cock and licked his lips when Akaashi easily took his entire length down his throat. Kuroo thrusted, drowning in the feeling that was Akaashi’s mouth. He grabbed onto Kuroo’s thighs to steady himself and Kuroo tsked, “What did I say about no hands, hm?” Kuroo momentarily grabbed the back of Akaashi’s head, pushing him as far as he could until his nose brushed up against his happy trail, a small moan leaving his mouth at the slight overstimulation of Akaashi’s tight throat. 

“You’re so good with your mouth princess,” Kuroo hummed, his angry demeanor slightly forgotten as pleasure overtook him. He groaned when Akaashi moaned, the vibrations going straight to his groin and he picked up his pace, only going harder when he felt Akaashi choke on his length, a tear going down his cheek. Yet, his blue eyes were still fixed on Kuroo’s, watching as Kuroo savored the feeling of having complete control over him, loving the slightly sweet taste of the raven haired man in his mouth. His pupils were blown out almost comically, his iris almost completely overtaken.

Kuroo watched as Akaashi’s cheekbones dreamily stood out a hundred times more when he sucked on the tip of his dick, cheeks red from excitement, eyes glossed over and hazy. A few strands of his pretty curly hair rested on his forehead, damp with sweat. Kuroo chuckled to himself, connecting the dots; Akaashi purposely gets Kuroo all fired up so he can have him like this, spitting orders and calling him dirty names. 

_ What an asshole _ , Kuroo thought. 

Akaashi frowned when Kuroo took his cock out his mouth, looking up at the man in question when he suddenly muttered, “Up,” and Akaashi was quick to get back up on his feet. Kuroo took a step closer to him, a gentle hand grazing the side of Akaashi’s face and he leaned down slightly to bring their lips together, Akaashi immediately going to grasp the taller’s waist tightly. Kuroo led them to his bed, the sound of their breath picking up and the springs of his mattress squeaking filling the room as they landed and Kuroo made a place for himself in between Akaashi’s thighs. 

The way Kuroo kissed Akaashi made him feel ethereal and erotic, in the best possible way, hot in all the right places to the point where he could drool. It was always enough to get his dick twitching in his pants, and right now, it made his erection painfully hard, desperate for some sort of contact but knowing better than to push his luck. 

Though, he knew Kuroo never stayed mad at him. 

He couldn’t, it was  _ Akaashi _ .

A thigh pressed against Akaashi’s front, coaxing him to let out a moan in Kuroo’s mouth, relieved at the friction. Their tongues meddled together filthily, spit dribbling between them and teeth clanking here and there, hands grasping at each other’s bodies. Akaashi’s fingers snaked their way into Kuroo’s hair, making the mop on his head impossibly more messy, pulling on the strands enough to force a groan out of Kuroo’s throat. 

It had been a long time since they had an argument, yet, it seemed to have died down already, which was odd. 

Kuroo was the first to break the kiss, getting up and off the bed to wiggle out of his clothes, Akaashi following suit, but staying in his spot, and watched excitedly as Kuroo took out the bottle of lube in his bedside table, as well as a condom. 

It was odd of Kuroo to not be so vocal. But then again, Akaashi knew that the older of the two definitely had a temper, and he hated being talked down on by Akaashi when he had to remind him of what they  _ are  _ and not what Kuroo  _ wanted _ them to be. 

When Akaashi was pulled out of his thoughts, he was lifting one of Akaashi’s legs over his shoulder, about to press a finger into his entrance when Akaashi abruptly closed his legs, “Wait.”

“What? Are you ok?” Kuroo looked at him with worried eyes, a protective hand already on Akaashi’s bare lower thigh. 

Akaashi sat up, and brought a hand to the side of Kuroo’s face. He was always limited on his affection to the man, because of the simple fact that Akaashi  _ knew  _ he had an effect on him, but right now he used it to his advantage at trying to calm him down. His fingers grazed the skin tight over his jaw, not in a sexual way, Kuroo noted, but in a comforting way.

“Are you sure you want to have sex right now? I know this usually happens whenever we argue. But I don’t want you to feel that because  _ I  _ enjoy seeing you get all riled up, that you  _ have  _ to satisfy me. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Kuroo-san.”

“Why are you asking?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, clearly thrown off as to why Akaashi even thought he didn’t want to have sex with him. 

“Well you’re not as talkative as you usually are,” Akaashi frowned, hand pulling away from Kuroo’s face. 

Kuroo couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh. As much as Akaashi made it seem that he was some heartless jerk that acted nothing but cold to his lovers, he always dissected their personalities down to the bone. He always noticed small things like this, things that Kuroo  _ definitely  _ wouldn’t have noticed had it been the other way around. It was something Kuroo admired about him, because he didn’t owe anyone that.

These were also the things that gave Kuroo false hope. 

He wasn’t as vocal today, not because he didn’t want to have sex with Akaashi, but rather because he was embarrassed by their earlier conversation. It was  _ always  _ demeaning whenever Akaashi felt he had to remind Kuroo the roles they played in each other’s lives. And for some reason, today’s argument just hit closer to home than usual. Kuroo just wanted so much more  _ so badly _ , but he knew that was the  _ one  _ thing Akaashi couldn’t give him. And it hurt.

But he still wanted every other part of Akaashi he knew he could have.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about me, of course I want to,” Kuroo shot a smile at Akaashi, rubbing small circles into his thigh “You think my dick would be up the way it is if I didn’t want to?”

Akaashi let out a rather loud laugh, one where he threw his head back and made his adams apple bob. He nodded his head gently as he did so, cheeks tinted a light shade of red, slightly embarrassed for even asking, but it was best to always make sure. It was a rare sight for Kuroo, and he couldn’t help the warmth that spread through his chest, but the moment was cut short. Kuroo couldn’t help but notice the remnants of a hickey right below his hip bone, one that he didn’t leave. 

Their eyes met, and Kuroo watched Akaashi’s caring gaze turn dark, leaning back onto his elbow and tilting his head back before letting out a cocky, “Ok, so fuck me then.”

In a heartbeat, their lips were connected, Kuroo’s finger delving into Akaashi’s puckered hole. A choked moan left his mouth, swallowed by Kuroo’s mouth; the warmth of having just his fingers inside him enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Every part of Akaashi felt amazing, almost too good to be real. 

“A-ah, just fuck me, I don’t need to be prepped, I’m stretched already from earlier,” Akaashi moaned, breath hot on Kuroo’s lips. He tasted like Kuroo and the cinnamon gum he always chewed. 

_ Pretty _ , Kuroo thought.

Kuroo couldn’t help but catch Akaashi’s slip up. Of course he  _ knew  _ he was seeing other people, but it always stung when he was reminded, especially during times like these where it got to his ego even more. But Kuroo knew he was a good lay, so it didn’t hurt so bad. If he wasn’t, Akaashi wouldn’t have stuck around for as long as he has. Knowing that always made him feel a bit better.

Akaashi was already panting as he watched Kuroo roll the condom onto himself, his eyes watching him hungrily. Something about seeing Akaashi break his cool, calm composure made warmth spread throughout the pit of Kuroo’s stomach. Seeing him get animalistic and demanding had the same effect as seeing someone who always dresses casually wear a button down with the sleeves rolled up; it was mouthwatering and  _ sexy _ . The personality Akaashi developed when Kuroo had him like this completely contrasted who he was entirely, and it was enticing. 

Kuroo stroked some lube on himself, fingers also spreading a generous amount outside of Akaashi’s hole, diving in and out so the stretch wouldn’t hurt him too much, watching Akaashi’s expressions as he did so. Akaashi threw his legs over Kuroo’s broad shoulders, hand coming down to take Kuroo’s fingers out of him, “Kuroo, put your  _ fucking  _ dick in me.”

With a quick nod, Kuroo complied. It was always Akaashi who ended up taking the lead in situations like this, even though it was always him taking it up the ass; it was funny.

“A-ah,” Akaashi hissed at the stretch, moan stretching out into a yelp when Kuroo began thrusting in and out of him, giving him no room to adjust. Akaashi let out a breathy laugh, hands going to claw at Kuroo’s back, Kuroo’s tattooed chest pressed up flushed against his, chin digging into his collarbone. The fullness of Kuroo inside him made his mouth go dry, pupils blown out; he wanted more. 

“Ok?” Kuroo asked, panting lightly.

Akaashi hummed in content, the burn going away already, as he had seen Atsumu earlier -- that wasn’t planned though. But then again their encounters usually weren’t. 

The room only seemed to get hotter and hotter as their bodies moved together, their sweat mingling as their moans and groans filled Kuroo’s apartment. Akaashi could feel his entire body buzzing with pleasure, the adrenaline in his body making his legs shake. He wrapped his legs around Kuroo’s hips, only bringing him deeper inside him making him let out a loud moan as his prostate was brushed, sending overstimulating shocks of pleasure up his core. 

“Oh  _ fuck _ , right there,  _ harder _ ,” Akaashi all but yelled, nails digging into Kuroo’s lower back, making the man above him hiss in pain. Kuroo lifted the upper half of his body so that he was resting on his legs and he pulled Akaashi’s legs up and off his shoulders, pulling his ankles together and pounding into him, the sounds leaving the other’s mouth becoming the definition of wanton. 

“Any louder and the neighbors will hear you princess,” Kuroo teased, watching as the boy under him writhed in pleasure, back arching off the bed, desperate to make his spot easier to hit. 

“What? Don’t you wanna hear me scream your name and tell you how good you are? Isn't that what you like Kuroo-san?” Akaashi shot back, clearly barely holding on by a thread, yet a cocky smirk was perched confidently on his lips. Kuroo simply let out a chuckle, beginning to feel the familiar pool of heat sneaking up on him; all of Akaashi’s words had gone straight to his cock. 

“That’s right,” Akaashi panted, grabbing ahold of himself, stroking his sensitive slit slowly, then going to give his balls a light squeeze. The sight of Akaashi touching himself was enough to make Kuroo drool, watching unashamedly as Akaashi lewdly stroked himself. 

“My good boy, you’re doing so good, feel so good. Just for  _ me _ .”

His words went straight to Kuroo’s head, making him feel lightheaded as he slowed his thrusts to get a better, deeper angle, holding back a moan when he felt Akaashi’s walls pulsate, probably nearing orgasm soon as well. Kuroo brought his hand to Akaashi’s throat and wrapped his fingers around it, watching as Akaashi’s eyes rolled back in pleasure, profanities leaving his mouth as he began losing control of himself. Kuroo knew he was close. 

“Tell me...how good it is,” Kuroo panted, pulling his cock out of Akaashi and roughly dropping his legs onto the bed so he was on his side. Kuroo sunk back into him, fingers kneading his ass accompanied by a hard slap, making his cheeks jiggle a groan leave Akaashi’s throat intentionally. 

“S-so good,  _ perfect _ ,” Akaashi whimpered, fingers bunching into Kuroo’s sheets as waves of pleasure hit him like a train, so intense he felt if he didn’t grab onto the sheets he’d lose all composure. “Your cock is the best --  _ ah  _ \-- the best I’ve ever had.” 

Kuroo felt his ego swell at his last words, and he picked up his speed slightly, hips rolling against Akaashi’s ass as he rammed into him, the tightness almost too much to bear. 

“Y-you’re doing so good Kuroo-san, you always know how to fuck me just the way I like it,” his words were barely above a whisper, the grip on his throat too euphoric to allow him to speak up. “Gonna make me cum, don’t stop, please,” Akaashi begged, watching as Kuroo’s cock lewdly made its way in and out of his hole, the muscles in his thighs contracting as he struggled to keep the pace of his thrusts consistent. 

Akaashi came with a lewd moan, cum spilling all over his chest, the sight alone sending Kuroo over the edge as well and he came into the condom with a groan, continuing his thrusts to ride out their highs. He collapsed onto Akaashi’s chest, trying to catch his breath, feeling a warmth spread through his chest when the curly haired boy began running his thin fingers through his hair, the other rubbing soothing circles into the small of his back. 

“You can lecture me more if it means the sex will be that good,” Kuroo mumbled into Akaashi’s neck, leaving a lingering kiss on a mole there before flopping onto the space besides Akaashi, slipping the condom off himself and tossing it into the bin as he caught his breath. He frowned when Akaashi sat up, taking one of the tissues on Kuroo’s bedside table and wiping the cum off his chest, turning to give a tissue to Kuroo as well, a teasing smile on his face. 

“I don’t think your ego could take that,” Akaashi snorted, tossing the used tissues into the bin besides the bed. “I’m going to go now,” he added, gathering his clothes wordlessly from the floor as Kuroo watched, wanting to say something but deciding against it, though it wouldn’t be so bad considering the byproduct of what happened last time he complained. He noticed Akaashi was wearing a flannel Kuroo let him borrow once and he never gave him back, saying it was too comfy to return. 

Part of Kuroo felt used and dirty, but this was the price he paid for wanting to see Akaashi, right? So it had to be worth it. Or, at least that was the hope. There was a tiny part of him that was still hopeful Akaashi would change his mind, change his ways, and eventually want to have more than just flings every other day. Kuroo  _ wanted  _ Akaashi. But right now, all he had to do was wait. 

By the time Kuroo snapped out of his thoughts, Akaashi was already grabbing his things from his bedside table, waving goodbye as he stepped out of his room. 

And now he was alone. Yet again. 

Akaashi stepped out of Kuroo’s room and into the main living space, grabbing his shoes and slipping them on as he continued to catch his breath. Usually he would stay for a little longer, but after their argument earlier, he felt there would be unnecessary tension that he didn’t want to deal with. Or maybe not, considering the last comment Kuroo made, but he didn’t want to risk it. 

He opened the door, startled when he met eyes with someone else's; piercing golden ones. 

“I -- Sorry I was just about to knock! Is Ku -- Akaashi-san?!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi y'all, i hope everyone had a good holiday and was able to make the most of it! here's a present from me to you LOL, hope the smut wasn't horrible as it's been a LONG time since i've written it ALSO sorry for the cliffhanger eeee


	5. Soda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: very emotional chapter, implied sensitive topics (sexual assault, suicidal thoughts)
> 
> \--  
> song of chapter: Soda - Nothing But Thieves

Akaashi blinked. 

This was definitely the _very last thing_ he _ever_ expected to happen. Why does this always happen to him? Why do unexpected things happen like this _all the damn time_? What did he do to deserve this? Why _here_? 

“K--Bokuto-san?” He retorted, disbelief clear on his face, brows furrowed as he tried to conjure up if this was  _ really  _ happening. 

“Akaashi-san! I’m surprised you recognize me! Long time no see,” Bokuto offered back a charming smile, offering a bow which Akaashi returned a little too eagerly. He mentally slapped himself for that. 

Bokuto’s smile hadn’t changed. 

“I -- This is  _ very  _ unexpected,” he managed to stutter out, any composure he had completely out the window. 

“Yeah, sorry if I startled you!” Bokuto blushed, hand sheepishly coming to rub at the back of his neck. Akaashi couldn’t help but eye his physique; he  _ definitely  _ was far more muscular compared to back to when they were in high school. His body was almost too attractive to be real.

Akaashi couldn’t help but notice Bokuto’s eyes scanning his face, as though he was looking for the right thing to say. It’s been so long since they’ve seen each other, having Bokuto in front of him felt like a slap to the face. He reminded him of who he used to be, and it sent a pang to his chest; it hurt to remember, and Akaashi tried not to. Seeing Bokuto felt like a breath of fresh air, but at the same time it made him feel like he was drowning. Yet, he couldn’t seem to break the eye contact between them, a familiar feeling making its way to his chest. 

The negative thoughts were abruptly shaken from Akaashi’s head by Kuroo’s voice. 

Fuck. 

“Ah, Bokuto, what’s up?” He was pulling a shirt over his head, only clad in his boxers and sweaty hair. Akaashi self consciously looked at Bokuto’s face, watching his face drop as he mentally connected the dots. 

He was going to think Akaashi was just some slut, or some freak who couldn’t feel anything. Kuroo is going to tell him  _ everything _ . 

“U-uh I’m gonna go,” Akaashi stuttered out, not wanting to stick around for any comments Bokuto may give. Not that he did. For such a loud person, Bokuto sure did know when to hold his tongue and wait for the appropriate time to ask certain things. At least, that’s the Bokuto that Akaashi knew in high school; the Bokuto that Akaashi used to have a soft spot for. 

Not that Akaashi wanted for that to happen— for them to meet again. It had been years since they had seen each other, a part of him felt he had finally moved on from that part of his life, yet, tears threatened to fall as he sped towards the elevator. 

“What was that about? Do you two know each other or something?” Kuroo questioned, stepping into the kitchen to wash his hands.

“Um… Yeah, something like that,” Bokuto murmured, hoping Kuroo would drop it, but also feeling curiosity prick every bone in his body. “I didn’t know you were seeing  _ him _ , are you two, like, official or something?” He tried to sound nonchalant, but it was clear Kuroo picked up on the eager tone in his voice, yet chose to ignore it. 

“We’re not together, we just — ya know, have a benefits thing going on,” Kuroo trailed, hurt clear in his voice. Bokuto hummed in response, but hid his confusion. Was Akaashi really capable of holding up those types of relationships? It had never crossed his mind, but he never took him as the type to even want to be that way with people -- he was too soft for that. Well, in high school at least. 

In the elevator, Akaashi was struggling to catch his breath, chest tight as hot tears made their way down his face; a sob threatened to leave him, but he knew if he let himself cry he wouldn’t be able to stop. Ever, probably.

It wasn’t Bokuto’s presence that made him feel overwhelmed, but rather the nostalgic feelings that came over him -- and not the good kind. It was the feelings he had in high school, the good ones before it all went to shit. But those hurt as well. It was the bad ones, too. And those were the ones that made his entire body shake in fear, the memories too overwhelming to bear. It was  _ him,  _ it was  _ that  _ night. A loud sob ripped from his mouth, making him quickly bring his hand to his mouth and he began scream crying, shoulders shaking uncontrollably, knees almost too weak to hold his weight up. 

He caught a glimpse of himself in the reflective elevator doors. He looked like he did when he was a teenager still in school; helpless. He  _ hated  _ it. He  _ hated  _ getting like this -- he  _ never  _ let himself get like this. He didn’t want to deal with it. But sometimes there were times like this, unprecedented moments where it felt like his deeply hidden sadness took control of him and suddenly Akaashi wasn’t himself anymore. 

Akaashi wiped his tears from his cheeks as the door opened and he trailed into the lobby, phone in his hand as he searched through his contacts. He brought his phone to his ear, the ringer going off once, twice, and a soft, “Keiji! What’s up?”

Akaashi bit his trembling lip, trying to hold back another sob he knew would escape him if he didn’t do so. He opened the door to exit the lobby and was hit with a rather cloudy Tokyo, which was unexpected, as it was sunny earlier. 

Even the sky was laughing at him, taunting him. The world hated him. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” The tone in Suga’s voice grew worried and Akaashi could already hear his keys jangling, a door slamming shut in the background. 

“I -- I,” Akaashi let out a hiccup, his voice cracking as he tried his best to keep his eyes on the ground. He felt everybody was staring at him, probably wondering why he was causing a scene and being a disruption. Nobody wanted to deal with that, nobody wanted to watch him break down in the middle of the city, nobody  _ cared _ . 

“S-something happened and I -- I need you to come to my apartment. I -- I don’t want to be alone a-a-and do _something_ \--” 

“I’m already on my way, can you tell me where you are? Are you with anyone?” 

The calming tone in Suga’s voice only made him feel more overwhelmed and a whimper made its way past his lips. He felt his fingers and toes begin to go numb, his chest growing tighter and tighter with every step he took. Suddenly, his apartment, though in view, seemed so far away. Akaashi couldn’t even picture himself getting there in time. In time for what?

“Hey,” Suga’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts and enveloped him in a warm hug, just like mom’s voice did. “You’re going to be ok Keiji, I’m almost there, yeah?” Akaashi could hear Suga was running, keys jangling wildly on the other line and small pants were audible. 

“Y-yeah,” Akaashi managed to stutter out, fingers putting in the code to get into his building. He hadn’t even realized he made it this far, everything was going so fast, it was scary. He was on autopilot, he has been for years now, but only in moments like these was he conscious of it.

It had been a long,  _ long  _ time since Akaashi had gotten like this. Yet, every time it did happen, it was exactly like this, it was so bad because Akaashi  _ let  _ it get like this. Why couldn’t he just deal with his trauma like a normal person? Why did he have to evade it? Was this how it was going to be for the rest of his life? It was always him seeing something or someone who reminded him of that nasty part of his life -- the part of his life he tried  _ so  _ hard to forget. Nobody would ever want to remember those things, it was only natural he blocked them out, right? 

He hadn’t noticed he had been picking at his fingers, so harshly that he had drawn blood and it had dripped onto the elevator floor. He had no time to react as he made his way out of the elevator, remembering that Suga was still on the line with him. It felt like he was rushing to get a finish line he couldn’t see. 

“It hurts Koushi.”

“I know hun,” Akaashi could hear the frown in his voice. “I’m already in the lobby, leave the door unlocked for me, ok?”

“Ok.” Akaashi hung up. 

Akaashi stepped into his apartment, head full with so many thoughts it felt empty. The numbness had spread up to his elbows and knees, and as he grew conscious of it, he felt his chest tighten again, like the clothes he had on were too tight, like the apartment was too small; it was too much. It was too much, and he didn’t know how many more breakdowns he had in him, each one was worse than the last, and every panic attack felt like it was going to take him with it. 

One day, Akaashi is going to explode. He’s going to fill to the brim and explode, just like a volcano, and take everything down with him. And he won’t care. Because it should have happened a long time ago. It should have happened that night. He should have killed him. The life he built for himself seemed to be crumbling at his feet, because in reality, it all meant nothing. Everything he knew, about himself and about life meant nothing, not in moments like these, when the intrusive thoughts made themselves known and became visible. 

“Keiji!” Suga rushed inside Akaashi’s apartment, wasting no time and wrapping his arms around Akaashi. 

A strangled sob ripped from Akaashi’s throat and he felt the weight of his sadness become too much, bringing himself and Suga down to their knees with it. He wouldn’t have been able to hold himself up, had it not been for Koushi holding him up. 

Suddenly, everything came back to him. The way he was pinned down, made to do things he didn’t want to do -- the  _ physical  _ pain of feeling like his insides were being sliced open with a butcher knife. Then, the events after. The nightmares, not being able to leave his home for weeks straight, losing all his friends, the drugs, those last two years of high school where he wanted nothing more than to disappear from this cruel life. 

The memories grew too much and his stomach churned violently, forcing him to free himself from Suga and sprint towards the bathroom where he retched into the toilet, his entire body now shaking, hair matted down, no longer curly. And all he could do was cry, even with Suga’s soothing hands rubbing up and down his back. He felt pathetic, like an animal who was on its last whim and begging its owner to just  _ make it stop.  _

“I don’t know why it still hurts Koushi,” he hiccupped. “I-It’s been so long and I still can’t stop thinking about how this shouldn’t have happened to me. I-I deserved m-more from this life! I did  _ nothing  _ t-to deserve what happened to me, I was -- I was just a f-fucking k- _ kid _ !” Akaashi’s words had tears running down Suga’s cheeks as well, but his arms remained wrapped around him, fingers massaging his scalp lightly. He hated seeing him get like this, his sobs were always so loud it made his ears ring and his heart ache. It seemed Akaashi couldn’t even hold back the noises he made, and his sobs sounded more like screams than anything. It hurt so much to see him like this.

Suga wished he could take all of Akaashi’s pain away. 

It had never been this bad though, and Suga was at a loss when he couldn’t calm Akaashi down after what felt like hours, he could see his fingers were cramped up, meaning he was still having a panic attack, and he was still breathing heavily, there seemingly not being enough air on the entire planet to satisfy his lungs. 

“C’mon, let’s get into the tub, ok? That always helps,” Suga whispered, making his way up to his feet, Akaashi’s body heavy in his arms, legs visibly shaking as his shoulders continued to jerk with his sobs. 

“I don’t want to do this anymore Koushi,” Akaashi yelled, making Suga freeze. 

There was  _ no  _ way Akaashi had made it this far for him to want to rip away all his progress from himself with such a drastic action. He couldn’t do that right? He would never do something like that,  _ right _ ? Suga didn’t know what to say, he felt weak in the knees, his breath caught in the back of his throat. 

“Don’t say that, please,” was all he could muster out, bringing both of their bodies into Akaashi’s tub. He emptied his pockets along with Akaashi’s, taking their shoes off and tossing their wallets and phones onto the bathroom floor before turning the water on, letting it rush over them. Akaashi curled in on Suga’s chest, breath steady, but whimpers still left his mouth. 

After letting the water run for a few minutes, and threading his fingers through Akaashi’s hair, he spoke up. 

“Keiji, do you think maybe it’s time to go back to your therapist?” 

“I think so,” Akaashi whispered, cheek pressed up against Suga’s chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat anchoring him to the present moment. He wanted to listen to it forever, lay here in the tub with Koushi forever, until he fell asleep and he could wake up and say he was _ truly  _ ok. 

“Ok, good,” Suga hummed, pressing a kiss to Akaashi’s temple, thankful that he was conscious enough of his feelings to acknowledge that he needed professional help again. “Do you want to talk about what happened today?” 

“Yes,” Akaashi whispered again, knowing if he spoke up his voice would crack.

“Ok, go ahead then, take your time.”

“I was at Kuroo’s house because it’s Sunday and I wanted to go see him, because I knew he didn’t have practice. And everything was fine, it all went well, but,” he paused, swallowing hard. The water was still running over them. “But when I opened the door to leave… Bokuto was there.” He heard Suga gasp. “I don’t know -- I think they’re friends or something, but I just -- seeing him after all this time was so odd. But it wasn’t  _ him  _ that triggered me, it’s the memories he’s  _ attached  _ to.”

Suga tentatively listened, Akaashi’s soft words  _ almost  _ drowned out by the water, but not quite. 

“It’s just -- I don’t like remembering that period of my life. Since I don’t live in our old town, I never come across things or -- or people from my past, so when I do, I can’t hold back how I feel, and -- and I get like this,” Akaashi mumbled, hearing Suga hum in response as he played with a loose thread from Suga’s sweatshirt. 

“I thought I could get away from it, but my past always seems to come crawling back to haunt me when I least expect,” Akaashi huffed, the feeling in his fingers and toes now back. “I can’t keep putting it off, but I’m scared. I don’t want to be the way I was in high school. My sadness -- I -- it almost killed me.”

“I know,” Suga sighed, pulling Akaashi tighter against him at those last words. “But, you’re one of the most self aware people I know. You always know what you want, and I know you want to get better, and getting help again is going to do you  _ so  _ much good Keiji. You don't deserve to still allow these things to be eating at you after all these years. You deserve to heal. I want to see you happy."

“If it gets as bad as last time, you’re going to have to take me to the hospital. I don’t want to die before I get justice Koushi, I  _ can’t _ .”

“I won’t let you,” Suga replied sternly. He couldn’t even imagine losing Akaashi, the thought couldn’t even wrap itself around his head, it was too much. 

A comfortable silence wrapped around them, the sound of the water hitting the tub floor and draining the only thing audible in the entire apartment. Suga had done research the first time this happened when they moved to Tokyo and Akaashi had gotten like this. Something about the cold water and blood pressure and feel-good hormones. It seemed to work.

Suga wanted to see Akaashi get better more than anything in the world. He had been going to therapy for a while, and even got evaluated by a psychologist who ended up prescribing him medication, but the idea of there being something wrong with Akaashi scared him, and he never went back for his refills. But, the idea of not being able to finish the legal process that started years ago scared Akaashi more than anything, and that seems to be his anchor, and has been for a long time. The idea that life itself wasn’t enough of a motivator for Akaashi to live and enjoy his life made his heart ache deeply. He was better, in the way of his actions, but he was obviously still deeply hurt by what happened to him.

“I still can’t believe you saw Bokuto,” Suga mumbled.

Akaashi let out a small laugh, “I know, it was the craziest thing. I never thought I would see him again.”

“Do you think you’ll see him again?”

“I want to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a bit hard to write, but i hope you guys are satisfied with having more of an insight on Akaashi's mind and are starting to get a clue as to why he is the way he is :)


	6. Nobody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for this chapter: Nobody - Mitski

Today, Akaashi didn’t want to see anybody, again. He didn’t want to eat, he didn’t want to drink, or sleep, or move. It’s been days since the night in the tub with Suga, and his energy has only seemed to diminish more and more everyday. The last time he ate was on Tuesday, and now it’s Thursday afternoon. It’s not that he didn’t want to eat, he was hungry,  _ so  _ hungry. But the thought of having to get up, think about what he wanted, take out the dishes and ingredients, make the food, sit down and eat, then have to wash the dishes and put them away; it was too much. 

He’s just been thinking. Empty thoughts that were so heavy it began to give him a migraine. 

He knew where it had all gone wrong, but thinking about before hurt even more. For years, he has felt guilty over not enjoying life before what happened. And what hurt more was that he couldn’t even remember it all too. After that night, it seemed as though his happy memories caught on fire as well, and his recollection of birthdays and innocent relationships, sunsets and volleyball on the beach, his mom and dad, they all were so blurry, there were so many holes. If it weren’t for pictures or the stories others would tell him, he wouldn’t know what the first half of his life had been like. 

Akaashi wishes nothing more than to remember what it felt like to be happy, because maybe then he would have a feeling to look forward to after healing from this. Of course there were happy moments in his life. He was happy when Suga came to his apartment and made snarky remarks about the movies they watched. And when the sunset blurs the clouds together and the sky became the most beautiful multicolored hue of colors. And when his mom and dad facetime him to ask him how he is, and they struggle to position the phone correctly so they’re both in frame. When Terushima comes into the cafe, just to kiss him. When Kuroo makes him feel wanted. When Suna makes him feel just as pretty as he is. When Atsumu laughs at his cocky jokes. Being almost done with college.

But it all still wasn’t enough. Nothing ever felt like enough. 

But he wanted it to be. He wanted to have a reason to live that wasn’t solely for another person. Akaashi wanted to live for himself, and to be selfish about it. He wanted to go into the career of his choice after finishing college, he’s worked too hard to stop. He wanted to buy his own home, with his own money, and a new wardrobe. He wanted to own a dog and name it after a funny inanimate object -- like ‘Cheese’. And he also wanted to be able to share that with somebody, he wanted to have his someone. He didn’t want his sadness to fuck up those parts of his life, yet here he is, at twenty-four, and he has never loved anybody more than himself. 

  
  


As much as Akaashi feels he’s never been selfish, he has. Him not ending it all wasn’t selfish, nor was wanting to live for himself. It was him shutting himself off from people like Kuroo right now -- like Bokuto in high school. For one reason or another, he’s always protected himself first over anybody else. Because if he doesn’t protect himself, who will? No one else is going to put another person before themselves -- that’s just how the world world works, right? It’s Akaashi not opening up about how he feels because people don’t deserve to see that part of him. Right? No one deserved to have all of him, no one deserved to see him at his most vulnerable or know his weak spots. Because then, they’ll just hurt him in any way they can, because people are just  _ inherently evil _ , they  _ all  _ are. 

The buzzing of his phone startled him out of his thoughts and his tired eyes took a glance at the lit up screen, squinting lightly as the light stung his eyes. 

>> [From Koushi]: i’m coming over and we’re having dinner together

Another buzz.

>> [From Koushi]: and don’t worry, it’s takeout, so no dishes! :)

A sigh of relief left Akaashi at that last message and he responded quickly. 

>> [To Koushi]: Door is unlocked, help yourself inside.

Akaashi decided he was done overthinking for the time being and he sat up, letting his sheets pool at his hips with a sigh. His back cracked loudly just as Suga walked through the door, and Akaashi tried to muster up enough energy to get up and greet him, but just couldn’t, so he waited patiently for Suga to come into his room. 

“Keiji!” Suga exclaimed, cheeks red from the cold, a plastic bag of takeout in his right hand. “I brought your favorite.” He landed on Akaashi’s bed with a plop, making Akaashi smile softly. He was glad Suga decided to do this for him, it’s like he read his mind. In his hand was the signature take out bag from his favorite ramen place, and it looked like he brought sushi too.

“Thank you Suga-san,” he bowed his head slightly, and watched as Suga began taking the containers out of the plastic bag with the yellow smiley face on it. “I got you a different sushi, just because you  _ always  _ get the same one when you go and I decided something new would be a good idea,” Suga explained, brows jumping up and down as he made all sorts of expressions.

“I’ll try not to burst with joy,” Akaashi deadpanned, making Suga snort out a laugh. He hated trying new foods, but if Suga thought he would like it he probably would. Suga handed Akaashi his disposable chopsticks and Akaashi slipped them out of the paper wrapping, snapping them in half and began going to town, stuffing a piece of sushi into his mouth. 

“Don’t choke, jesus,” Suga scoffed, slurping on his ramen.

“You know,” Akaashi pointed out, “I don’t have a gag reflex.”

“I didn’t expect anything less. But choking on food and choking on dick are two different things Akaashi,” Suga cackled, shoving a piece of sushi into his mouth.

Just as Akaashi was about to retort, his phone began to ring, an unknown number popping up onto the screen, making his eyebrows furrow. It was a number from Tokyo yet he didn’t recognize it. Usually he doesn’t pick up calls from numbers he doesn’t know, but for some reason he felt he  _ had  _ to pick up this call, so he did and he put them on speaker as he continued stuffing sushi into his mouth.

“This is Akaashi,” he murmured, waiting for the other person on the line to respond with knit eyebrows.

“Hey, hey Akaashi-san!”

Akaashi and Suga’s breath hitched, eyes locking. Akaashi  _ almost  _ considered taking him off speaker and stepping out of the room to have a bit of privacy, but decided against it as it was Koushi. 

“It’s Bokuto! I’m just calling to ask if we could maybe meet up or call each other later. I haven’t seen you in years and,” Bokuto’s usual boisterous voice grew quieter as he spoke, Akaashi noted. Like if he spoke any louder he would break Akaashi. “I was just wondering if you would be comfortable with that. Seeing you the other day just reminded me of the good times we had in high school and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about -- sorry I’m rambling. Would that be ok Akaashi-san?”

Part of Akaashi wanted nothing more than to exclaim ‘yes! I want nothing more!’ but the other part of him, the realistic part, questioned whether seeing him would be too much. Would he react the same way that he did when Bokuto saw him leaving Kuroo’s apartment? He would probably ask Akaashi things about that and Akaashi didn’t know how to explain to someone from his old life that he wasn’t the old Akaashi anymore. He wishes he could be the old Akaashi, just for Bokuto. But that's a façade not even Akaashi would be able to pull off, and who knew if he could actually pull himself together in front of Bokuto. 

Maybe this was the first push Akaashi needed. Bokuto. 

“Yes, that sounds like fun Bokuto-san,” Akaashi finally responded, he was sure he had Bokuto on the tips of his toes with how long he probably took to respond. “How does tonight at seven sound? There’s a coffee place downtown that I really like. Unless that’s too far! We can meet anywhere you want.” Akaashi could tell that Bokuto was nervous, and he was probably running his fingers nervously through his hair and rubbing the back of his neck. Just like when they were in high school. 

The thought made Akaashi smile.

“Yes, that’s fine. Can you message me the details?”

“Yeah, of course! I’ll see you there Akaashi-san,” the smile on Bokuto’s face was evident, even through the phone, and it spread a warmth through Akaashi he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“Ok Bokuto-san, I’ll see you.”

Akaashi ended the call, and let out a huff of air, meeting eyes with Suga who had comically wide eyes, his brows so far up his forehead from shock it looked like it was straining the rest of his face. At the same exact time, both he and Suga absolutely lost it, Suga slapping Akaashi’s bicep violently, and Akaashii blubbering something about what he was going to wear and how he had to shower. 

“Dude, this is like  _ fate _ !” Suga screamed, shaking Akaashi by the shoulders roughly, making him drop the chopsticks in his fingers. 

“I mean, it’s not like it’s like  _ that  _ Koushi,” Akaashi mumbled, feeling the tips of his ears burn as he spoke. It felt as though the room was getting hotter and hotter. He fiddled with his fingers in his lap, picking at the scabs that had formed.

“Are you joking?! He literally had to bite his tongue so he wouldn’t say that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you!”

“You don’t know if that was what he was going to say!” Akaashi shot back, observing how Suga’s neck had gone pink from screaming so damn loud. “Plus it’s not like we’re in high school or anything, it was just a stupid crush, he never felt that way.”

Suga’s laughter died down and a serious look took over his features; Akaashi already knew what he was going to say. “Will you be ok if you see him though? Will it be too much?”

Akaashi thought for a second, pursing his lips as he scraped his brain for any sense of how he might feel. Sure, he had gotten overwhelmed last time that he saw Bokuto, but it wasn’t  _ him  _ or the feelings that Bokuto  _ himself  _ made Akaashi feel like it was too much. It was the era of memories Bokuto was in, it was just remembering high school, and what happened. It wasn’t Bokuto. It could never be Bokuto.

Akaashi could never be afraid of Bokuto, as the man had always held a soft spot in Akaashi’s heart. There was no negativity held for him, because there simply couldn’t be. Bokuto was too charming, too admirable, and too easy to love. Part of Akaashi still held that fondness for him, more so because it was a pent up secret admiration for so long, but he always assumed that Bokuto didn’t reciprocate those feelings. He had so many chances to make a move when they were younger, and he never did. Akaashi could only assume he didn’t like him back, but it didn’t matter now because it was just a dumb childhood crush. 

The feelings Akaashi felt back then weren’t something he could see himself ever feeling again, not like this, not after all the damage that's been done. He was a wrecked car beyond salvageability, there was no way he would ever function properly or at all ever again.

Plus, Bokuto didn’t deserve someone like Akaashi. Someone incapable of love and only lust. Bokuto was too soft around the edges to pursue someone as heartless as Akaashi. But it would be ok to be friends, it would be ok for Akaashi to let Bokuto make his chest warm again and make the tips of his ears blush. It wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

“I’ll be ok.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm SO excited for next chapter and i hope everyone else is too! finally some Bokuaka content after 6 long chapters LMAO also happy new years everybody! may 2021 bring everyone health, new opportunities, and success <3


	7. Mr. Hollywood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for chapter: Mr. Hollywood - Joji

By the time that Akaashi got to the café Bokuto told them to meet at, he had already smoked through half a pack of cigarettes. It was an old habit that he didn’t indulge in very often, but he was so nervous and couldn’t think of anything else that would calm his nerves. He rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Bokuto inside, seemingly having a conversation about the menu, judging from the laminated cardstock that he was waving around wildly in one hand. It seemed he was trying to pronounce a food on the menu he couldn’t quite get, his blush evident even from twenty feet away as the waitress tried to help him.

Maybe there was nothing to worry about.

Akaashi stepped on his cigarette before continuing on, ignoring the anxiety bubbling in the pit of his stomach. A deep breath, and then he was pushing the door open, the bell dinging behind him as he made his way to Bokuto who was now looking intently at the menu, the waitress now gone, as well as his blush. He didn’t look nervous, so why should Akaashi be? 

The brief moment where Bokuto was unaware that Akaashi had his eyes on him, and he looked so nonchalant, so at peace, had taken Akaashi’s breath away. Bokuto hadn’t changed much since high school, his hair was still spiked up with tons of gel, and he still adorned a smile, even though he was just going over the menu. He was reading the words before him intently, all his attention there and nowhere else, his knees were hitting the table, as he was way too tall for the furniture it seemed. 

Seeing Bokuto again after so many years raised a lot of conflicting feelings in Akaashi. But none were bad nor negative. How could they be? Bokuto made Akaashi feel nostalgic in the best way possible, and that was something Akaashi didn’t think was possible. To Akaashi, nostalgia was a nasty feeling, one that made him bitter and angry and forced his stomach into a twist. Nostalgia was filled with bad things, but Bokuto was the exception.

In high school, they were inseparable. They were on the volleyball team together, and they would get strawberry cakes every Friday at the convenience store across their school, they were Bokuto’s favorite, so they became Akaashi’s favorite. The bus rides to away games or practice matches were always the best because they would share earphones, and sometimes Bokuto would fall asleep and his spiky hair would brush against Akaashi’s face. On the weekends they would have dinner at each other's houses, and Akaashi distinctly remembers that Bokuto’s parents  _ loved  _ him, and his mother would send Bokuto to take Akaashi’s favorite dish of his whenever she made it all the way to his house.

Nothing but good memories.

But that wasn’t who Akaashi was anymore. He wasn’t bubbly or shy anymore. He was cocky, and too confident, and reckless. Part of Akaashi was afraid that Bokuto would shame him for the way that he is now, that he would spit nasty slurs at him and make sure that he knew what he’s been doing to get by these last few years was wrong and disgusting. But the other part of Akaashi, the new, selfish Akaashi didn’t care what anybody thought, even if it would hurt a bit coming from someone like Bokuto. The world would go on and nothing would stop if Akaashi’s world stopped, so why should he? Nobody will ever get the best of him, even if it was someone who he held deeply in his heart.

The pang in his heart when Bokuto met eyes with him made happiness wash over him subconsciously and all the bad thoughts go away and before he knew it, he was smiling back at the older man, crinkled eyes and everything. 

“Akaashi! Come sit with me!” His arms were waving wildly, his grin lighting up the whole café. 

And it was just like high school all over again. Bokuto beaming the widest smile of all the time, Akaashi being the one to pull him out of his moods. The lunches they shared and Bokuto running to Akaashi’s class building to spend as much time together as possible. 

“Hi Bokuto-san,” Akaashi bowed slightly before sitting down, a gentle smile on his face he couldn’t quite hold back. 

“I went ahead and ordered us some coffee, I know you like those really sweet ones with the caramel,” Bokuto had now set down his menu, all his attention now on Akaashi. It made the other want to squirm in his seat, but his pride made his chest swell and had him sticking his jaw high in the air, eyes not breaking contact with Bokuto’s piercing ones. They were softer than before, if that was even possible, like they were trying to envelope Akaashi in a hug without saying anything. 

“I appreciate it,” Akaashi was the first to break eye contact, taking the scarf around his neck off and neatly folding it, stuffing it into the pocket of his coat with his cigarettes, then taking a sip of the coffee. Bokuto remembering he likes sweet foods made his stomach flutter. 

“How have you been? What have you been up to?” Akaashi questioned, maybe a bit too eagerly. But he wanted to know, all of it and everything in between. 

“Well, right now isn’t season,” Bokuto began, a hand on his chin as he thought of what he was going to say. “But I’m playing for the Black Jackal’s! You remember Hinata Shouyou and Miya Atsumu? They’re on the team with me as well. I’m the ace, of course!” A confident grin was on his face, like he couldn’t wait to point out the importance of his role on the team. But Akaashi’s stomach churned  _ violently  _ when he heard Atsumu’s name. He knew Atsumu played for the Black Jackal’s as well, but he didn’t know that Bokuto was on the team as well. How could he not have known that?

That was probably going to be a problem.

“That’s so good,” Akaashi smiled. “I’m happy you were able to go into volleyball professionally. That’s no surprise though, you were so good in high school,” Akaashi hummed, looking around the café to see a sign that said he  _ couldn’t  _ smoke inside. He needed another, his nerves were making his hands shake. More so after finding out Bokuto was teammates with Atsumu. He didn’t see one so he took another out, though the ashtray in the middle of the table was also a big giveaway, but he just wanted to make sure. He was about to offer one to Bokuto when he saw the violent blush on his cheeks. 

“Ah you probably don’t smoke, I know you always hated the smell,” Akaashi dismissed, trying to fill the air with words as Bokuto was clearly taken aback by what Akaashi had said. He took one in between his lips and lit it, eyes watching as Bokuto tried to wordlessly gather himself.

“N-no I don’t, but thank you, I don’t mind if you do though,” he took a sip of his coffee, Akaashi noted that it was black coffee which made him cringe as he took a drag, making sure to blow the smoke away from Bokuto. 

The nerves Akaashi had seemed to wither away slightly, and he crossed his legs, leaning back into the booth they were sat in. “I’m a student at the uni here in Tokyo, I’m majoring in psychology, and I’m just about done. This is my last year,” Akaashi smiled. “Right now I’m just working part-time down at a café in the Bunkyo ward, by the uni. I live around there too.” 

“That’s so cool Akaashi-kun! So now you’re all educated hm? I always knew you would go into a field like that, where you help people.”

Akaashi wasn’t sure how to reply to the compliment, when the waitress saved him, a pen and notepad in her hand to take their order. Bokuto began telling her what she wanted, and that was when Akaashi realized he hadn’t looked at the menu  _ at all _ .

“And for you?”

“I’ll get the same as him,” Akaashi answered, handing her his menu and thanking her as she walked away.

“You know,” Bokuto began. “You left so suddenly at the end of your second year, it was like you fell off the face of the earth.”

There it is. Here it comes. All the questions Akaashi had the answers to but didn’t want to be asked. Not by anyone. Even Bokuto.

Akaashi stayed silent, waiting to see if Bokuto had more to say, and he took a drag of his cigarette, eyes locked with Bokuto’s golden ones. They looked so much like honey, they were just as sweet too.

“I would've thought it was something serious if I didn't hear about you from your parents.”

“It was something serious,” Akaashi cut him off before he could say anything else. He didn’t want Bokuto to think Akaashi leaving had to do with him. 

“Listen,” Bokuto leaned on the table with crossed arms, bringing his voice down. He was approaching Akaashi with caution, and if it were anyone else he would have taken offense to being seen as something fragile that could break. “I’m not saying things will be the way they used to be, but I want to be your friend again. I don’t know what happened and you don’t ever have to tell me, because I don’t want to put you in a situation where you’re uncomfortable, I respect you too much to do that.” He gulped. “But I’ve missed you, a lot actually. We were best friends and you were just gone, like you didn’t even exist. It was scary.”

Guilty tears pricked at Akaashi’s eyes, but he fought them back with everything in him. He didn’t think  _ this  _ would be happening. Bokuto completely disregarding Akaashi’s sudden disappearance and wordlessly saying ‘ _ it’s ok _ ’ made him feel warm all over. He didn’t think someone could care, not like this, and definitely not someone he hurt so many years ago.

It was true, though. Akaashi really did just pack up his whole life and left. To stay in that town a second longer would have killed Akaashi, or sent him down a horribly dark path he couldn’t even fathom. He’s never been one to consciously seek the validation of others, nor seek their forgiveness but  _ this _ . Bokuto and him, here in this café with the pictures of cute cats; it began to feel like something. Not enough, but something. 

“I should've never left without saying anything,” Akaashi murmured, his free hand picking at the scabs on his other hand. “It was just all so fast… but you deserved a good-bye, and I’m sorry I never explained why I had to leave so suddenly. It was selfish of m--” Suddenly, his hands were being grabbed and gently torn apart from each other. Akaashi’s eyes lingered on the coarse hands on top of his own. They were rough and had tiny bruises and cuts, and a few of his fingers were a bit crooked. His palms and fingers were very obviously calloused, even without looking Akaashi could tell by the rough texture of them. 

“You’re going to make them bleed,” Bokuto pointed out, setting them on the table. Akaashi looked back up at Bokuto’s face, his eyes were soft, a matching smile adorning his face, contrasting the rest of his sharp facial features. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me Akaashi. I’m just glad you’re ok, and that we were able to meet again, even if the circumstances were uh -- a bit odd,” he chuckled lightly, taking his hands back and taking a sip of his coffee. Akaashi oddly missed the jaggedness of them.

“Ugh, oh  _ god _ ,” Akaashi groaned, bringing a hand to cover his face, feeling heat pool in his cheeks and neck. “That was so  _ embarrassing _ . Out of all the places in the world and  _ that’s  _ where we see each other after all this time.”

Bokuto gave a boisterous laugh, one that came from deep within his chest and made him throw his head back. Akaashi couldn’t help but mirror him, Bokuto’s laugh was just  _ so  _ contagious, it always has been. 

“Tetsuro isn’t  _ that  _ bad, I’m sure he’s a good time, it’s what gives him such a big ego,” Bokuto chuckled, leaning back in his seat. His crewneck was forced down slightly, and Akaashi could see the beginning of a tattoo on his collarbone. 

“Oh, I can assure you that ego of his is just a front, he’s very much whiny,” Akaashi rolled his eyes, taking another drag of his cigarette. 

“Hm, I guess you would know about that,” Bokuto raised a brow into a teasing stare, Akaashi couldn’t help looking at the way his eyes became suggestive, and it took everything in Akaashi’s power to not give in to them. Because he knew it wasn’t like that. There was nothing to give into. 

“Enough about that,” he blew the smoke out his nostrils, the sting grounding him enough to keep going. He didn’t want Bokuto to ask about Kuroo. He didn’t want him to ask about their relationship or what they were because then Akaashi would have to explain himself and if Bokuto asked  _ why  _ then he’d know just how much of a shitty person Akaashi  _ really  _ is and not want to be friends with him. 

He didn’t  _ need  _ Bokuto’s approval though, so why was he so determined on not having judgement passed on himself? Akaashi didn’t care what anyone else thought, so why should he care about what Bokuto had to say about him? The thought made him want to pick at his fingers, but he didn’t want Bokuto to touch him and make him  _ feel  _ things again. 

“How have we not ran into each other sooner?” Akaashi questioned, a brow raised. He put his cigarette out, noticing that Bokuto became less tense as he did so. He had said he didn’t mind if Akaashi had a smoke, but he very obviously didn’t like the smell, so Akaashi decided against lighting another one. 

“Well Tokyo  _ is  _ pretty big,” Bokuto pointed out. “It is odd though, we seem to know a lot of the same people. Have you been stalking me Akaashi-kun?” He teased, leaning onto the table, forcing a creak out of the wood. His arms were so big, his shoulders and torso were  _ so  _ prominent through his crewneck, if Akaashi were anybody else he would probably make him drool. But he wasn’t so easily swooned. 

“Ah yes, Bokuto-san, I, a college student with barely  _ any  _ time to take care of myself has my nose all up in  _ your  _ business,” he deadpanned, sipping on the sweet coffee. It tasted so good, he was surprised he hadn’t been here before. Well, not so surprised. When he did have free time, he was busy  _ doing  _ other things -- or  _ people _ , in simpler terms. 

“I’m flattered, really,” Bokuto snickered, dramatically sticking out his hands and cockily admiring his nails. They were painted black. Though, his hands weren’t really the prettiest, but that didn’t make them less attractive. It was obvious to Akaashi now how he really had spent so long playing volleyball. Atsumu’s hands were the exact same way. And so were Hinata and Oikawa’s boyfriends who played the sport professionally. Not that Akaashi ogled them or anything, he was just observant is all. 

“You should be,” Akaashi smirked jokingly. Bokuto was about to retort when their food arrived. Akaashi furrowed his eyebrows. A breakfast sandwich? It was, like, half past seven in the afternoon. He cocked an eyebrow at Bokuto as he thanked the waitress.

“They’re good! Your fault for not looking at the menu and just getting what I got,” Bokuto mumbled, making the other scoff out a laugh. Akaashi was surprised he had noticed that was why he just went with what Bokuto had ordered.  _ Observant _ , Akaashi thought. It seemed he had stared at Bokuto for too long, as the man’s ears had tinted pink. “It’s my comfort food, ok! I was nervous,” he took a rather violent bite out of the sandwich, making Akaashi giggle.

“How has MSBY treated you Bokuto-san?” Akaashi questioned, folding his napkin twice into itself and tucking it into the inside of his plate. It had a little cat in the middle of it. Akaashi finally caught on that cats were  _ definitely  _ the theme of the café and it made him laugh internally. That was  _ so  _ Bokuto.

“Mmm,” he thought. “Really well, actually. I thought the attitude I had in high school would be a problem, but the atmosphere there is so different. Everyone is so determined to get better, and it’s intimidating in the best way.” He was waving his hands around wildly. He had always been expressive with his hands. “I wanted to be better, so I did. Being whiny wouldn’t be very professional of me.”

“You weren’t whiny when we were in high school, what do you mean?” 

“Maybe not to  _ you _ , because you and I were always together. But I knew the way our teammates looked at me when I got into those moods. After high school, though, it became more than a game. Nobody  _ has  _ to put up with my moody outbursts.” His face began to drop slightly, a tiny frown etching its way onto his face. 

“Needing to be picked up isn’t a bad thing though. It’s only normal to get down when you don’t feel the best, you’re only human,” Akaashi explained, becoming concerned. Bokuto wasn’t the type to ever really have serious conversations like this, so it was very out of the blue for him to bring up something like this. 

“Ah, you sound so professional Akaashi,” Bokuto sighed, taking a bite out of his sandwich. “It was immature of me though. I’m almost as cool headed as you were on the court now,” he grinned, the comment making Akaashi fight back a blush. He wasn’t used to receiving praise that wasn’t sexual or had an ulterior motive. It was nice.

“I’m glad you’ve bettered yourself in a way that you like,” Akaashi smiled, swallowing the food in his mouth. “I’ll be sure to watch the next game that’s live to see if you live up to your words.” 

“Well I won’t be as cool headed if I know  _ you’re  _ watching!”

Akaashi and Bokuto ended up staying at the café until it closed. They talked about high school and Akaashi kept accidentally going on and on about phenomena in his field of study, and Bokuto about volleyball. It was nice, Akaashi thought. It was nice to be able to talk comfortably with the man, though they didn’t bring up Akaashi leaving in conversation again for the entire night. Someone respecting Akaashi’s boundaries was relieving. It was like a breath of fresh air that he didn’t know he needed. And the best part was that he didn’t have to physically voice those boundaries, Bokuto just  _ knew  _ that it was too much and that Akaashi wasn’t comfortable talking about it with him.

He ended up walking Akaashi to the metro, and there was an awkward moment where they didn’t know if they should hug or bow goodbye. Bokuto ended up bowing, and Akaashi returned it, then headed onto the train car.

Akaashi wanted to see Bokuto a lot more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope everyone liked this chapter! it was a lot longer than i expected but didn't want to split it into two parts bc that's annoying LMAO but i'm so excited for Bokuaka!!! obvs it is going to be quite slow, seeing as they're barely in the beginning of rekindling their friendship but i look forward to writing more of them together :)


	8. YEAH RIGHT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: mentions of rape, VERY angsty 
> 
> \--
> 
> song for chapter: YEAH RIGHT - Joji

Akaashi was sat in the comfy loveseat of his therapist's office, slightly dreading when she would come back into the room. Someone had rang the bell and she excused herself and had stepped out a few minutes ago. The room hadn’t changed from the last time he came here, which was a few months ago. It was rather large, as there was a second floor, though there were no walls, it was fenced in with pretty black wood with intricate designs and there were even _more_ bookshelves than on the bottom floor where the seating area was. The bookshelves were almost overflowing with novels and huge textbooks, and framed quotes lined most of the free space on the walls. 

‘ _Sex was never meant to be a weapon_.’

That quote always made Akaashi feel bitter and angry. He crossed his arms as he stared so hard at it the words began to blur together. Yes, it was true, but the idea that not everybody felt that way made his blood boil.

“Sorry about that, it was my husband.” She closed the door softly behind her and put a lunch pail onto her desk that she had not left the room with. Akaashi could only assume that he had brought her food, and it made him warm inside for some reason. It reminded him of when his mom would bring him his lunch to school sometimes when he forgot it. The memory made him smile slightly, though his gaze had turned back to that quote that always turned him sour.

“I always noticed you stare at that quote when you come here, Akaashi-san. How does it make you feel?” She asked, sitting back down across from him, her leather bound notebook and slick black pen twirling in her hand. 

“Well,” Akaashi huffed, putting his chin into the palm of his hands. “It makes me angry.”

“Hm, and why is that?”

“I mean -- obviously, it’s true, it’s something I feel deep in me. But there’s just something about it, it almost feels personal,” he mumbled. He couldn’t gather his thoughts, but it really _did_ seem personal. Like it was laughing at him and degrading him, though, not in a way that was mocking his trauma, but rather himself. 

“Do you maybe think it mirrors how you see sex? How _you_ use sex as a weapon -- but not in the way the quote itself interprets it?”

“I guess I did make it personal,” he chuckled, crossing a leg underneath himself. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. It was Kuroo, he knew by the vibration, he customized them and memorized them so he would know when it was ok to look at his phone.

“I don’t think I use it as a weapon -- but more as a defense mechanism, right?”

“That’s correct, to some extent. Why don’t you try and explain it to me?” She tucked a strand of her pretty black hair behind one of her ears as she jotted something down onto the notebook, making Akaashi feel some sort of invisible pressure to answer correctly.

“In the beginning it was more of me trying to cope. I guess I used it more to convince myself that I wasn’t afraid of sex or of men. I wouldn’t say that I am anymore though, well, not the men that I have sex with _now_ , but I’m not afraid of approaching men for the most part,” he thought even harder if that was possible. The words coming out were unfiltered and it was as if he was thinking out loud; ‘word vomit’ Kiyoko-san would say. “I guess I do use it as revenge now, in a way.”

“Mm,” Kiyoko began. “I don’t believe you purposely mean to use it in a matter of revenge, but with people like Kuroo and -- what was that other man from before?” 

“Semi, but I don’t see him anymore.”

“Ah, yes. I believe you used sex as a weapon with him, as well as with Kuroo right now. They’re both men who have shown obvious romantic interest in you, and you being afraid of romance is a whole other thing to unpack -- but why do you think you don’t owe men true romance -- or is it just a part of yourself you don’t want anyone to see?”

“I think it partly is because that’s a side of me that’s intimate, and I have issues with being vulnerable for _obvious_ reasons, but _truly_ ,” Akaashi paused and let out a loud sigh. “I don’t think men deserve to see me soft. I just think that if they do, they’ll take advantage of me and I’ll become fragile or something.”

“Do you think every man is out to hurt you or do you only feel that way about the men that you surround yourself with?”

“Well I don't think so bu -- why would I surround yourself with those types of men consciously? Shouldn’t I be seeking out an ideal partner? Someone who doesn't have the bad traits I have?”

“It’s most likely what you unconsciously think you deserve because you feel that you can’t love anybody, so you surround yourself with men that won’t love you back. And the ones that do, you allow to stick around because you enjoy hurting their feelings the way that man all those years ago hurt you.”

Akaashi blinked.

It did make sense, but hearing it out loud and explained to him in such a blunt way felt harsh. It was always him that didn’t sugarcoat things for others when telling them what they were and weren’t to him, so hearing Kiyoko say it how it is almost hurt his feelings a bit. But she wasn’t wrong. Having an upper hand on some of the men that Akaashi is seeing now and has seen in the past is definitely something he enjoyed having. 

“It kind of does feel nice to treat men like shit sometimes,” he shrugged, pulling himself into a deeper pit of thought. “So is that why I do what I do? Is that why I am the way I am? Do I just have it out for every man ever?”

“Well, no,” Kiyoko explained, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “When people experience the trauma that is rape, you sort of respond in a fight or flight way. If you had responded in the ‘flight’ way you would have avoided the problem, maybe have wallowed in it for months or even years and wouldn’t be seeking out the types of relationships you have, perhaps you would have introverted and stayed home a lot more. But instead you’re experiencing the ‘fight’ response I guess you could call it. You felt you had to deal with your trauma in a head on way by having sex and lustful relationships with men almost right after you were raped, because you didn’t want to be scared. That’s partly due to your personality, as you are quite stubborn, but it really is just your brain preparing yourself for it to happen again -- and this is you desensitizing yourself. Do you find that that’s true?”

Akaashi was taken aback by the straightforward response. But this is why he chose Kiyoko as his therapist all those years ago, she never held back and that was what Akaashi enjoyed about her.

But as she spoke, he had felt his chest tighten, like the air had gotten knocked out of him. Because she was right. Akaashi had never thought of it in that way -- but it all made sense. After he was raped, he began racking up sexual partners left and right. He didn’t want to be afraid of men, because that was who he was inevitably attracted to for the most part. But part of him knew that he was doing it so much so that one day, he wouldn’t be scared. He hadn’t known of _what_ exactly, but it was that. Akaashi began to note that, sometimes, even now, he had sex even when he didn’t necessarily _want_ to, especially in the past. He really _was_ desensitizing himself.

“I-It is,” he gulped, fighting the urge to cry. 

“Do you enjoy your sex life now? Are you both physically _and_ emotionally satisfied?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m emotionally satisfied, but I don't need anybody to tend to me. I don’t choose my sexual partners based on whether they’ll fill my emotional needs, because I do that for myself.” he tried his best not to stutter, but it began getting hard to keep his composure, though they had moved on to a less serious topic. That was clearly the biggest lie he’s ever let slip out, but in a way it was true. He didn’t want people to have to take care of him, though he didn’t take care of himself.

“Hm,” she wrote something else in her notebook. “When was the last time you had an emotional connection with somebody Akaashi-san? Someone you could confide intimate things with that weren’t physical intimacy?”

“Uh -- well, first of all,” he shifted in his seat slightly. “The difference between physical and emotional intimacy is pretty blurry for me. But if you mean platonically, Koushi and I are pretty close, and we do talk about these things sometimes, but not really. I just don’t want him to worry about me. Him being there for me when I breakdown is already so much, I don’t want him to get annoyed of having to deal with my baggage because that’s for me to deal with. But I’d say we have a pretty intimate relationship. He’s like one of the only people that aren’t my parents that knows about what happened, besides Terushima.”

“Can you remind me why you told Terushima?”

“He’s paying for my legal team for the case.”

“Ok, well, it makes me worry quite a bit that you don’t depend on anybody outside of me during our sessions. But that is also something that isn’t new, you’ve always had issues with being vulnerable, but it’s understandable that you would. Because your abuser was somebody that was close to you, you see everyone as a potential threat, and that’s just your brain trying to protect yourself from it happening again; it’s a defense mechanism. It’s not a _healthy_ one, but I do believe it’s what you think is keeping you safe. Over the next week, I want you to practice conscious vulnerability. Invite Koushi over to your home, that way you’re in a space you’re not uncomfortable in, and tell him about how you’ve been feeling. Maybe call your mom and tell her that you’re seeing me again. Put yourself into a position where you feel exposed, but don’t push yourself too much, baby steps,” she smiled. 

Akaashi nodded, getting the hint that their session had ended and he stood from the loveseat, his ankles popping as he straightened out.

“I’ll try my best Kiyoko-san, thank you” he bowed, receiving a bow in return from Kiyoko who had stood up to walk him out. 

“Maybe try journaling again,” she smiled softly. “I think that helped a lot last time as well.”

“I think I will,” Akaashi replied, shrugging his coat back on and began walking towards the door, Kiyoko just behind him. 

“Oh, Akaashi?”

“Hm?”

“I didn’t offer a solution for the way you think about sex and intimacy, because you need to become aware of the role it plays in your life. I don’t want you to think I ignored that and what you had to say about it. But we need to make sure you’re conscious of the why’s and how’s before we try fixing anything.”

“I understand, thank you again, I’ll see you next week,” Akaashi waved to her and pushed the door open to the exit in the lobby. He bowed to the receptionist before diving out into the outside. It was getting chilly now, Akaashi liked it because he got to wear his coats and turtlenecks and knit sweaters, but the gloomy weather always had him feeling a bit down. More than usual.

This session was quite heavy, and he felt _very_ emotionally tired. And numb. Very numb. He needed something to help with that, so he grabbed his phone and began walking towards the metro station, the walk already burned into his mind as he had done it so many times before. 

>> [From Kuroo]: come over?

>> [To Kuroo]: I’ll be there in 20.

>> [From Kuroo]: can’t wait :)

>> [To Kuroo]: To fuck me? Yeah, me either.

Akaashi shoved his phone back into his pocket, and grabbed a stick of his favorite gum as he rounded a corner. He wasn’t necessarily in the mood for Kuroo _specifically_ , but he _did_ want to have sex. To distract himself. He’d probably be scolded by Kiyoko next week, but that was a problem for next session. Today was Wednesday, which wasn’t a day that Kuroo, Atsumu, and Ushijima were usually able to see him, Akaashi had thought of seeing Suna, because today was his day off, and he never asked questions that were invasive. It was going to be hard to keep Kuroo in check today, Akaashi knew that it was going to be difficult to remain his usual stoic self around him, and he had never seen Kuroo right after going to therapy. 

A migraine began to ache at Akaashi’s temples at the thought and he sighed, making his way down the steps into the station. The next train wouldn’t be by for another five minutes, which Akaashi had planned on, so he swiped his card and pushed through the metal gate, taking his phone out _once again._

He situated himself and leaned against one of the pillars in front of the train, going through his contacts and hitting the call option. Akaashi grumbled when they didn’t answer and angrily shoved his phone back into his pocket, pulling his cigarette box out and lighting one as he began waiting. Sometime during his walk to the station he had put his earbuds in without noticing and he smiled slightly to himself, going through his playlists and settling on one that wouldn’t make him feel so shitty. 

The train came in no time and Akaashi filed in with the pack, as it was lunch hour and the train tended to be _very_ packed at this time of day. The ride was only about three songs long, and he found himself walking towards Kuroo’s quite fast, as the music dimmed his bad mood, but only a little. He kept his music in for the entirety of his walk. He didn’t want to think about his conversation with Kiyoko, or why he was coming here, and why he made that phone call earlier. He just needed a distraction, a pick me up, or just _something_ that would prepare him for the rest of the week. It was going to be difficult, but he needed to try and actually do what Kiyoko told him to, Akaashi knew it would help but it just seemed so _difficult_ and emotionally draining. He wasn’t looking forward to it at all. 

He found himself knocking at Kuroo’s door shortly, hearing the man’s footsteps as he approached and unlocked the door, greeting Akaashi with a small smile. Before he could say anything -- because Akaashi knew Kuroo would just tick him off by saying anything just slightly wrong -- he grabbed Kuroo by the neck and pulled him down for a kiss, sliding his tongue into his mouth when he gasped and letting out a quiet moan when Kuroo began kissing back, shutting the door behind them and locking it. The taller man roughly cupped Akaashi by the ass, bringing his crotches together, the friction _very_ much needed and forcing a low groan from Kuroo. 

Akaashi began kicking off his shoes, not tearing their lips apart, and shoved Kuroo further and further back until the back of his calves hit the black couch. The two plopped onto it, Akaashi resting his thighs on either side of Kuroo’s and grinding down slightly as their tongues meddled with one another, the sound of lewd wet sounds overpowering the quiet music Kuroo had playing somewhere deeper inside the apartment. Akaashi shrugged off his coat, and Kuroo mirrored him by pulling his t-shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere on the floor.

“You’re in a mood today huh princess,” Kuroo hummed, lifting Akaashi’s shirt and taking one of his nipples into his mouth, rolling the bud between his tongue and his teeth enough to make Akaashi let out a wanton moan, legs shaking when he began to feel his dick twitch in his pants at the overstimulating feeling. 

The comment made Akaashi’s lip twitch once he processed it and he snaked his fingers in Kuroo’s hair, tugging roughly and forcing him to look up at him. Kuroo looked up with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape. 

“Do _not_ talk. Just kiss me.”

Kuroo looked taken aback, but nodded and pressed his lips against Akaashi’s again. He tasted like cigarette smoke and cinnamon gum, leaving a bitter sweet taste in Kuroo’s mouth, but it was Akaashi so he loved it. He could tell the man was off, but he was afraid if he said anything that he would go off or something. The last time they saw each other was when Bokuto and him ran into each other, and Akaashi had seemed to be avoiding Kuroo for the past few days. 

Just when Kuroo was going to help Akaashi out of his shirt, Akaashi’s phone began vibrating wildly, making the younger of the two hum in excitement. Kuroo furrowed his brows in annoyance. 

Did Akaashi _really_ think answering a call was appropriate right _now_ of all times? 

“Hi,” he heard Akaashi chirp. His tone had completely changed, and Kuroo couldn’t help but be tinged with jealousy as he wondered who it could be. 

Akaashi never talked to Kuroo like that.

“No, it’s ok, and I’m fine. I just wanted to see if I could come over in, like, two hours?” Akaashi trailed a thin finger down the middle of Kuroo’s pecs, going around the tattoos that filled his chest. 

_Oh_.

Something ugly bubbled in the pit of Kuroo’s stomach, and out of reflex his nails dug into Akaashi’s hips slightly, but the younger didn’t seem to care, too enthralled with making plans with someone _else_ when Kuroo was _right here._ Why did Akaashi think this was ok? He wasn’t even acknowledging who he was with, nor had the decency to just step out of the room or even just get off of Kuroo’s lap while already making plans to probably go fuck someone else. 

“Yeah, my apartment is fine too, but I can’t promise my room will be the cleanest.” Akaashi giggled. If it were any other situation, Kuroo would have swooned and probably blushed at the sound and would’ve egged Akaashi on to milk it for as long as he could. Kuroo loved Akaashi’s laugh, his smile. It wasn't a sight he usually got to see. But right now, Akaashi’s laugh wasn’t pretty or alluring. It was making Kuroo’s blood boil. 

He shoved Akaashi off of him and onto the couch with a scoff, hearing him gasp when he landed on his side roughly, but he didn’t care. Kuroo grabbed his shirt off the floor and tugged it back on roughly, rubbing his face with his hands in annoyance. 

An ache began to form deep in his chest; it hurt. 

It hurt when Akaashi did things like this. When he pulled stunts like these, Kuroo couldn’t be bothered to worry about him or ponder _why_ he acted like this. He knew that there was probably a reason that Akaashi was the way he is, he never asked though, because getting to know each other on a personal level was ‘ _too intimate_ ’ as Akaashi always put it. Despite Kuroo wanting to consider that, and not blame Akaashi for being this way, he couldn’t help but slap the situation with simple selfishness. 

Akaashi was cold. And Kuroo wasn’t an exception to that behavior. Sometimes he wondered if anybody had ever seen the warm side of him, though he wasn’t even sure that side of him existed at all. He wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t. 

“Actually,” Kuroo could feel Akaashi burning holes into the side of his head, so he craned his neck to look at him and they met eyes. Akaashi’s classic cocky smirk plastered itself onto his face, and his chin stood high in the air. “Come over now Suna-san, I don’t think I can wait that long for you to fuck me.” 

Akaashi’s eyes didn’t falter away from Kuroo’s once when he let those venomous words leave his lips. He wanted Kuroo to know, he wanted to put him in his place, to degrade him. Akaashi knew that he was Kuroo’s weak spot. 

How cruel. How _heartless_. 

“Can’t wait, see you soon.”

“What is _wrong_ with you?” Kuroo whispered. Tears were threatening to leave his eyes, but he fought them back with every fiber of his being. He didn’t want Akaashi to have that. Kuroo wanted to keep at least _some_ of his dignity. 

“You think you have the right to get angry with me? You think _you_ have that privilege?” Akaashi retorted, making Kuroo’s eyes go wide at the words. He stood up, looming over Kuroo with dark, angry eyes. He felt so, so small right now. To be reminded of who he was to Akaashi hurt, but _this_? This was torture. 

“You don’t get to tell me how I can and can’t feel,” Kuroo stood up, forcing Akaashi to look up at him due to their difference in height. Kuroo has never been this angry in his _life_ . He felt like he could explode, like he had been filling to the brim with rage for the entirety of his and Akaashi’s relationship — no, not relationship, their _agreement_. And all that anger was going to come out. Right here, right now. 

“You think you’re _so_ high and mighty Keiji —“

“ _Don’t_ use my name.”

“I’ll call you whatever the _fuck_ I want to call you!” Kuroo’s voice came out louder than he expected it to, and it was clear by the flinch he received from Akaashi. “You think you’re better than me? You think you can waltz into my home, demand me to fuck you, then make plans to go fuck somebody else while you’re still on my fucking dick? What fucked up part of you thinks that’s ok?” He screamed. Kuroo could tell he was probably doing too much, he could tell he was scaring Akaashi, but he didn’t _care_. What he did just now was too much. 

Akaashi put his hands on Kuroo’s chest, and put some distance in between them. That was when Kuroo realized that he had the other against the wall, and part of him tried to shake off some of the anger he was feeling. He wanted to calm down, but he couldn’t, not when Akaashi said what he did.

“Do you think I care about you Kuroo?” His head cocked to the side, the way a child's did when they asked ‘why?’

Kuroo’s breath hitched. That was it. That was the last blow, the nail in the coffin. The brief fear that was in Akaashi’s eyes was long gone, when Kuroo met eyes with his, he didn’t even look fazed anymore. The blue in eyes was the darkest he had ever seen. There was nothing behind them, no care, no guilt, no remorse, _nothing_.

“I --”

“You think you’re more than just a lay to me?” Now it was Kuroo backing up, Akaashi in his face.

“Stop.”

“Do you know who I am? I could have anyone I _want_ ,” he spat, his face was furrowed with so much anger that all the soft, pretty parts had vanished, he was now all harsh features and rough lines. “Learn your _fucking_ place, because I swear if you don’t, this _will_ be the last of me you’ll _ever_ have, and you _know_ I mean that. And _you’d_ be the only one hurt, because you went soft on me. Wasn’t that the agreement? No feelings? Fucking _pathetic_.”

Hot tears were making their way down Kuroo’s cheeks now at Akaashi’s words. He’s never said things like this. It felt like Kuro was being stabbed in the heart at every word Akaashi let slip out.

So _this_ is Akaashi. This is the person he holds back every time they argue. These are the things he really wants to say, and now he’s not going to hold back. Part of Kuroo just wanted to never see him again, but he knew that would probably hurt more than what’s going on right now. 

“S-stop,” it was so quiet Kuroo could barely hear the word come out his own mouth.

“No.” Akaashi grabbed him roughly by his face, fingers digging into his cheek, forcing Kuroo to look him in the face. His tears were already going down Akaashi’s fingers and dripping off his wrist. “I’ve put up with your shit for so long. You are _not_ the only person I’m seeing and you know this. You were told to never be upset about who I see --”

“That doesn’t mean it’s ok to make plans to go see someone e-else when I’m right _h-here_!” Kuroo sobbed. The grip on his face tightened even harder. 

“Shut _up_ !” Akaashi screamed, his breath was shaking, but not out of nervousness or fear. His adrenaline was peaking, he _liked_ this, he was _getting off on it_. Kuroo knew. His ego was blowing up into something bigger, something ugly. 

“You do not control me. You are not somebody I love, or even somebody I care about. You do _not_ have the right to have feelings about the things I do.” Kuroo was shoved back onto his couch, in a much different way he had been shoved onto it than he was earlier. “Because you are nothing to me, Kuroo. You never were, and you never will be.” Akaashi let go of his face roughly, making Kuroo jerk back deeper into the sofa. 

“Burn that shit into your brain, because we’re _never_ going to have a conversation like this again. Ever.”

Akaashi grabbed his things and slammed the door behind him, and just like that, Kuroo was alone again. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i LOVED writing this chapter a lot. it gave a lot of insight on Akaashi, especially the last scene with Kuroo, pls let me know what you guys think! :)


	9. False Alarm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: slightly explicit content + recreational drug use
> 
> \---
> 
> song for chapter: False Alarm - The Weeknd

Hands made their way down Akaashi’s chest, delving in and out into the crooks of his toned body through his velvet shirt, then firmly grasped his hips, pressing him further back into the man behind him. Akaashi let him, loving the way he pressed up against him just right. He pressed the joint they had been sharing against Akaashi’s lips, his slender fingers painted black reflecting the lights of the club, waiting for him to take a drag. He did, holding it for a bit before exhaling, already feeling lightheaded.

The club was pulsing with music, the bass so heavy Akaashi could feel it vibrating the floor beneath him. The amount of bodies around him made the air heavy, the smell of a bunch of perfumes and colognes mixing and weed _very_ prominent -- it was a miracle they hadn’t been kicked out yet. Not that they really cared anyways. Some English pop song was playing throughout the club, and though Akaashi didn’t understand it all, it felt very him. 

“Isn’t that Kuroo?”

“Hm, looks like it,” Akaashi replied nonchalantly, locking eyes with him across the club, feeling him burn holes into the man behind Akaashi. But what was he going to do about it? 

Nothing. 

He couldn’t.

“Let him see.”

Akaashi smirked, the music going into half time, and he swayed his hips to the slower rhythm, pressing himself against Suna, feeling the beginning of a bulge press against the curve of his spine. He couldn’t deny the ugly pride swelling in his chest when he continued holding gazes with Kuroo as he bent over for Suna, shaking his hips and running his hands over his chest, Suna’s fingers digging into his hips as he held him in place. Akaashi felt euphoric, and not because of the drugs in his system, it was the adrenaline rush. Kiyoko was right that Akaashi definitely had victimized the men in his life, because Akaashi just knew he had them like that. Especially Kuroo. But any of his toys would drop whatever they were doing if it meant having a piece of Akaashi. And Akaashi _relished_ in it, it made his ego swell to an ungodly size and pumped him with a hundred times the amount of confidence a regular person should have. 

  
  


“How cruel of you Akaashi-kun,” Suna had snaked his hands around Akaashi’s front, settling on resting his fingers around his throat, his lips grazing over Akaashi’s ear. “Shut up, you like that he’s watching,” Akaashi murmured, pulling Suna in and slotting their lips together. He tasted like the fruity drinks they had been drinking all night and smoke. Akaashi turned his back to Kuroo, his attention now fully on the taller man. Kuroo could watch if he liked, but Akaashi had different plans. 

He wrapped his arms around Suna, deepening the kiss and allowing for him to grab him by the waist and pull him closer. Akaashi could feel Suna’s piercings press against his chest, and he couldn’t help the shiver that ran through his body at the thought of having them in his mouth later. They looked so pretty, but Akaashi was more afraid of getting them snagged and having his nipple yanked off or something. Suna usually wasn’t one for public affection -- not that _this_ was affection -- but tonight the three of them were together, and he always became oddly bubbly. Like he enjoyed people knowing.

Just as the thought crossed Akaashi’s mind, he felt another pair of hands grab him and pinch his butt, making him yelp and turn around. “Jesus, you scared me,” he sighed, throwing a glare at Atsumu. “Didn’t mean to scare you angel, I was just feeling a bit left out,” the frown on his face was comical and exaggerated, as was the rest of the blond, and Akaashi couldn’t help but let out a laugh. 

Akaashi rested a hand on Atsumu’s chest and leaned forward, a sly smile on his face, he leaned up to press his mouth to the blond’s ear and saw Kuroo still watching him. He was at a table, legs spread and back pressing against the leather seats, a drink in his hands. “If you wanna join, we could all just get out of here,” Akaashi whispered, lingering his mouth close enough to the shell of Atsumu’s ear to make him visibly shiver. And just as the words left his mouth, though Akaashi didn’t have his glasses on, he spotted a head of silver hair appear next to Kuroo and his breath hitched. “Yeah, we should _really_ get out of here,” he breathed out, grabbing Atsumu by the wrist and nodding towards Suna to follow.

The three men made their way out of the club -- well, more like they were dragged by Akaashi who seemed to be in a hurry. 

“Why’d you rush out of there?” Atsumu questioned, scrolling through his phone as he ordered them an uber. “One of his other boyfriends was there,” Suna muttered, taking the last drag of the joint and then dropping it and putting it out. “Ah, what a shame, we could have all had a reunion,” Atsumu sighed, looking up at Akaashi to try and read his face, but like always he had his stoic expression, except his eyes were droopier than usual and bloodshot. 

“He doesn’t even like this club, I don’t know why he’s here,” Akaashi grumbled, face pinched in annoyance. He genuinely wanted to have a good time tonight, because it was rare that all three of their schedules lined up like this. But having Atsumu, Suna, Kuroo, _and_ Bokuto in the same room was something Akaashi had never imagined nor _ever_ wanted to experience, especially because of his fight with Kuroo. It’s only been a couple of days, and the two men still hadn’t talked, but Akaashi wasn’t going to apologize, because he had been in the right, of course. Well, at least in his mind. Part of him felt like the horrible antagonist of a movie, but he couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Don’t be so pouty Akaashi-kun! We’re all gonna have some mind blowing sex and everything will be ok!” Atsumu cheered, wrapping an arm around Akaashi’s shoulders and sending the two in a swaying frenzy. Suna let out a lazy chuckle, making the other two look at him expectedly, waiting for some smart remark to leave his mouth. “Isn’t that so funny? Literally three out your -- what? Like ten boyfriends --”

Akaashi gasped and slapped Suna’s chest lightly, “It is _not_ ten!”

“Ok but I know for a _fact_ you’ve had ten boyfriends at once before.”

“That was like, once, and they’re not my boyfriends.” 

“Dude, you’re something else,” Atsumu chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets and leaning back onto the exterior of the club.

“Wait, so how many do you have then?” Suna questioned, cocking an eyebrow at Akaashi.

“Five,” Akaashi murmured, forcing barks of laughter to leave both Suna and Atsumu, making Akaashi’s cheeks heat up. He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms against his chest, letting out a huff of air. He _was_ having fun, he thought. Seeing Suna or Atsumu alone was completely different, but having all three of them together was always so lighthearted. Akaashi would almost consider them friends if they didn’t have sex. 

“Oh man, we should go invite him, he looks like a good time,” Atsumu snorted, tugging Akaashi towards him onto the wall and wrapping an arm around him. “You ever had a foursome ‘Kaashi? Shit is euphoric.” The quiet words sent a shiver down Akaashi’s spine and he couldn’t help but lean into his touch. Atsumu usually wasn’t the kind of guy that sparked any sort of interest in Akaashi, as he wasn’t his type, but his cockiness reminded him too much of his own ego, and it was attractive seeing that confidence in someone that wasn’t himself. 

“No way in hell,” Akaashi scoffed, attempting to brush off the fact that he genuinely got flustered. “He’s all mine, sorry, he’s just too good to share,” he smirked, eyes going wide when he felt Suna’s long fingers grip his chin and tilt his head up to look him in the eyes. 

“Funny we all get to share you though, huh dollface?” His eyes seared into Akaashi’s, and if it were just them two he would’ve been too weak in the knees to retort, but with Atsumu there he felt he _had_ to keep up his collected front. “I’m way too pretty to be gatekept, Suna-san,” his words rolled off his tongue like velvet, any sign of not having full composure and control completely out the window.

“You got me there,” Suna chuckled, letting his fingers linger on the Akaashi’s jaw for a bit before cocking his head back to an approaching car. “That’s them,” Suna muttered, letting go of Akaashi’s face and heading towards the car. The three of them plopped into the backseat, Akaashi in the middle, which made his drunk self chuckle slightly at the irony of it.

Tokyo at night was beautiful, it was almost unfathomable. Akaashi always loved the idea of living in a city, even as a child who grew up in a smaller town just outside of it. The anonymity of cities was attractive. No one knew who you were, and the chances of running into the people you knew or even just running into the same person twice was so small, because there was just _so many_. The idea of nobody knowing his business, not knowing his name, what he does, it made Akaashi drool. He couldn’t have picked a better place to live. 

The way back to Suna’s home was about a quarter of an hour with the traffic and all seeing as it was the weekend, and Akaashi noted that they would be passing Tokyo Tower. He’d always wanted to go there and take cheesy pictures with someone with the film camera he had bought for himself a while back. He’d gone with Suga once, but it wasn’t the same. Terushima had taken him to all sorts of places and famous monuments all over the world, but the tinge of intimacy and privacy he wanted was something the two never had together. Every moment the two spent together was bliss, but it was _just_ fun, and _just_ that. Nothing else. But Akaashi wanted more; not from Terushima, though.

Suddenly, Akaashi felt his phone vibrate, and he furrowed his brows, fishing the device from his pocket.

>> [From Bokuto]: Akaashi! We were at the same club and you didn’t say hi :(

Kuroo had to have told him something, there was no way that Akaashi was seen by him. He would have known. He typed as best as he could, though his vision was blurry from his lack of glasses and all the drugs in his system.

>> [To Bokuto]: Sorry, I didn’t see you, I just left.

He bit his lip before typing again. 

>> [To Bokuto]: I wish I had though.

Akaashi regretted it as soon as he sent it, but just shrugged his shoulders to himself, zoning back into reality. Atsumu was making conversation with the driver, and that was when Akaashi realized Suna had a hand on his knee, his long fingers tracing patterns and slowly sliding up to the inside of his thigh. The rings on his fingers were scratching his skin through his pants and sending shivers to his core. Akaashi leaned his head on Suna’s shoulder, and turned his head so his lips were pressed against his ear. “You’re unusually touchy today, can’t keep your hands off me hm?” Akaashi cupped the bulge in Suna’s pants, earning a quiet satisfied hum from the latter. 

“Could say the same for you dollface.”

If it weren’t for the fact that they were in a stranger’s car, Akaashi _definitely_ would have gotten on his knees at that very moment. But instead he just chuckled lightly, bringing his hand back to himself and throwing a glance at Atsumu's way who was completely engulfed in his conversation with the driver. It seems the driver knew who he was and was enthusing about the blond’s upcoming season. This probably wasn’t an ideal situation for Atsumu to be recognized, but Akaashi gathered that the older man didn’t care much. 

Another buzz. 

>> [From Bokuto]: How about we do something tomorrow? 

Akaashi thought for a second, and bit his lip in worry when he remembered that he had invited Suga over tomorrow to follow through with what Kiyoko had told him to. He wanted to get better so, so badly. And after his last session, at Kuroo’s home, it felt like he regressed a thousand steps backwards. Akaashi had never gone off on somebody like that before, not even Kuroo. Well, except one person. But the talks him and Kuroo had to have before were never like that, because Akaashi never felt the need to portray anger through cruelty. They were always calm reminders that certain things were going on that Akaashi had not agreed to, and that was all. But he couldn’t deny that it felt good. And he was afraid of that. He didn’t want to turn into an uglier version of himself.

Was that even possible? Akaashi already felt that he was one of his worst selves ever, but after that whole thing with Kuroo, he’s never hated himself more. But of course, he would never admit that out loud. Especially to Kuroo.

>> [To Bokuto]: I have plans tomorrow. How about Monday?

>> [From Bokuto]: Sounds good! We’ll figure something out tomorrow. Have a nice night Akaashi :)

Oh yeah. Akaashi was going to have a _very_ good night, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. Just as if on cue, the car came to a halt in front of Suna and Atsumu’s shared apartment, and Akaashi’s legs became a jittery mess at the thought of what would be happening tonight. They’d gotten together before, but each time was better and better, so the adrenaline rush was inevitable. The three men got out of the back of the uber, thanking the driver, and began heading inside, Suna leading the way. 

“Ah, home sweet home,” Atsumu sighed, dramatically entering the apartment with a huge smile on his face. “You act as if we were out that long, pretty boy here decided to cut the night short because he panicked,” Suna muttered, taking his shoes off and tossing his keys onto the kitchen counter. “It wasn’t by choice,” Akaashi retorted. “We got into a fight the other day and I don’t really want to deal with him right now. Plus, I’m sure seeing me with not one -- but _two_ people that aren’t him pissed him off to the _max_ ,” he snorted, slipping out of his coat and setting it onto the coat hanger by the front door.

“Sheesh, sounds like he caught feelings,” Atsumu grumbled. “Tell me about it,” followed Akaashi with an eye roll. 

Their apartment was very much Suna and not very Atsumu, which would be off putting to anybody who didn’t know the two very well, as Atsumu appears to be the dominant one between the two with his outgoing personality and him being an extrovert, but it’s actually the opposite. Akaashi only knows because when he and Atsumu see each other _Akaashi_ tops. It’s ironic and Akaashi always makes sure to shove it in the blond’s face whenever he gets the chance. 

The furniture was minimalistic and the decorations were plain, yet still gave the apartment a homey feeling -- it was warm and soothing. Pretty. Just like Suna. Akaashi watched as Suna wordlessly went deeper into the apartment. He was always awkward when it came to initiating anything, but once he started it was as if he switched personas completely, so he followed behind him, entering their bedroom.

Suna and Atsumu had been dating for a while now, probably nearing two years, and Akaashi was added to the equation a few months ago. Suna was Akaashi’s TA when he was a sophomore in university and the rest is history. He liked spending time with them, as their hangouts were always lighthearted and all three of them -- well when Akaashi was around -- kept an unannounced curtain of privacy between them. They understood that Akaashi wasn’t the type to want intruders in on his personal life, and Akaashi didn’t want to intrude on the intimacy of their relationship, so they just had fun every once in a while. Both Suna and Atsumu were also ok with seeing Akaashi on their own and didn’t mind. It all worked out. It was a nice little arrangement. Not messy at all, just the way Akaashi liked it. 

By the time he had gotten out of his own head and snapped back into reality, Suna had Atsumu on their bed, and the blond was already a panting mess, shirt ridden up and cheeks flushed. Akaashi watched as their tongues danced outside their mouths, not as gracefully as they usually would, probably because all Suna was high off his ass. Atsumu never smoked with them because he was paranoid he would be drug tested out of the blue. He did play professionally -- but he also played for Japan’s team as well, so Akaashi could understand his concern. 

Akaashi could feel himself hardening in his jeans, but settled down in a seat they had in the corner of the room, where he would also have a better look at the two as they had a huge mirror on the other side of the bed. Probably for this specific purpose. He fished out his cigarettes from his pocket and lit it up, watching as the kissing between Suna and Atsumu grew more and more heated. Akaashi wasn’t so sure if he was in the mood anymore after seeing Kuroo all angry in the club and sending those messages to Bokuto that were way too soft for his own liking, but decided that he was already here and he didn’t want to kill the other two’s moods. He liked seeing other people enjoy themselves and be satisfied, even if he himself wasn’t satisfied. In that sense, he wasn’t selfish. 

Atsumu was a whimpering mess now, shirt tossed to the side and pants lewdly wedged down his hips, just enough to expose his fully hard member. Suna was stroking his slit teasingly, so lightly that he even had Akaashi on the edge of his seat as he watched, wanting for him to touch him more, roughly, the way Akaashi knew Atsumu liked it. 

“You just gonna watch or you gonna join dollface?” Suna cocked his head back to meet eyes with Akaashi’s, brow arched cockily, one hand beckoning Akaashi to join, the other still stroking Atsumu. 

“Would you let me top you?” 

“ _W_ _hat_? No! I don’t bottom,” Suna scoffed, Atsumu also looked at Akaashi in surprise, but didn’t seem shocked at Suna’s response. 

Akaashi stood from his seat to lean on the corner of the bed, pressing his cigarette to Suna’s lips. With his other hand, he gripped onto Suna’s brown locks and pulled, _hard_. “You’d look so cute begging for me though, are you sure?” Akaashi pouted, holding back a cocky chuckle when he choked on the drag that he took. 

“Fuck,” Atsumu breathed, his arousal clearly reaching another level at the scene before him. 

“You’re tempting Akaashi-san,” Suna brushed their lips together, but Akaashi’s body was aching for more, more _more._ “But no.”

“What a buzz kill!”

“Ok, maybe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a bit of a filler so i wouldn't be giving y'all TWO angsty chapters in a row LMAOOO but i hope you guys enjoyed the interactions between Akaashi, Atsumu, and Suna :)


	10. Mom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for chapter: Mom - Broox

Akaashi was woken by the ringing of his doorbell, and he groaned loudly to himself, remembering that it was Koushi. He mentally smacked his past self for not thinking ahead to account for the hangover and soreness he would experience from last night. He had ended up passing out on the couch, shoes and everything scattered everywhere and he cringed at the mess, hating that it wasn’t in its designated place and cursed before standing up and going to approach the door. He noted he still somehow was in his right mind to pull on one of his sleep shirts and take a shower by the towel on the floor. 

He opened it and was rewarded with a _way_ too happy Suga, who was holding a bag of food in his hands. “I brought breakfast!” He exclaimed, pushing past Akaashi to leave his shoes by the door and continuing on to the kitchen wordlessly. 

“Thanks,” Akaashi muttered, eyes still groggily trying to adjust to the bright light. He plopped onto the stools of his counter with a sigh, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Didn’t work. 

“Dude are you ok?”

“No,” he groaned, the pounding in his head only growing as the seconds passed. 

“What did you do last night?” Suga questioned with a cocked eyebrow. He was taking out the containers of food from the plastic bag. He had gotten food from the diner by his home that sold American styled breakfast. _Nice_ , Akaashi thought. 

“I went to that one club down by the tower with Suna and Atsumu,” just by thinking of them he felt his ass _physically_ ache and he held back the need to wince. Suga noticed and snorted out a laugh, handing Akaashi his plate. Waffles, eggs, and bacon. His stomach grumbled at the sight, but he waited for Suga to take a seat next to him and take a bite before having some himself. 

“You went to their place I’m assuming?” 

“Oh yeah of course,” Akaashi scoffed, standing up to get something from the fridge. “Orange juice?” Suga hummed in thought and nodded. “It’s so easy for you to get ass,” Suga chuckled, taking the glass from Akaashi.

“Suna let me _top_ , it was _crazy_!” Akaashi exclaimed, munching down on a piece of bacon. It was crispy, just the way he liked it. “Really? Damn, I never took you as a top, I thought you’d be a pillow princess.”

“No way, c’mon Koushi, I bet _you’re_ a pillow princess.” Suga rolled his eyes, confirming what Akaashi said, sending the two into a frenzy of laughter. It died down for a bit, and Akaashi ended up connecting to his speaker in the kitchen, just for some background noise. He couldn’t stand the quiet. 

“How have things been with Daichi?” Suga immediately blushed at the question, though Akaashi knew he was expecting it. After that night when they got cross faded and stayed up for hours playing cards and listening to songs, Akaashi gave Suga Daichi’s number, after asking Terushima before of course. Terushima had given it to him after a few months of seeing each other and gave Akaashi permission to call him if he ever needed a lift, but obviously told him to be considerate. It was rare he had to utilize the offer, but he would be lying if he were to say Daichi didn’t come in handy sometimes. 

“We text a lot and call each other when we get the chance, and we went out the other day actually,” his voice grew smaller and smaller as he went on. “You went on a date and didn’t tell me?!” “Well I don’t want to get my hopes up or anything and look dumb if it doesn’t work out,” his voice was the tiniest Akaashi had ever heard and he felt guilt prickle up his spine.

“Even if it doesn’t work out it’s ok to talk about it Koushi. Not everything is permanent, but people are experiences that should be shared when they’re good ones,” he shot Suga a comforting smile, and he could tell he had said the right thing. “Plus, I don’t have many doubts about you two, the chemistry was crazy that day when he gave us a lift, I’ve never heard him talk so much.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really! I think you’ve got him in the bag,” Akaashi grinned, Suga mirroring him, shoulders no longer tense and face now in its usual relaxed state. “We had lunch and then just shopped around, and we ended up picking outfits for each other, it was nice,” Suga smiled abashedly down at his cup of juice, squeezing the glass out of excitement. “That sounds like fun, I’m glad you guys enjoyed yourselves.” 

They continued eating, mostly wrapped in a comfortable silence until they finished, as they both weren’t so fond of eating and talking simultaneously. Akaashi had told Suga why he asked him to come over, he hated to be a bother, but it needed to be done. And he preferred talking to Suga about it rather than his mother who would probably only make him pity himself more than he already did. And even though he's had days to mentally prepare for today he still couldn’t help but feel nervous at the thought. He had no idea how it would go, and if it were to make things worse he wouldn’t know what to do with himself until Wednesday. Because clearly trying to find any sort of comfort in his lovers was not something that was ideal -- mostly with Kuroo. None of them would ever be permanent solutions to putting off his problems.

Akaashi still didn’t even know how to approach him again. He didn’t want to apologize because he felt that he was in the right, because _really_ ? Kuroo cared enough about what he was doing outside of what him and Akaashi were doing to get up in his face about it and scream at him. Who did he think he was? Maybe the way that Akaashi said it wasn’t really the most appropriate and it was a bit cold of him, but how else was he supposed to react after Kuroo _literally_ shoved him off of him. Just thinking about the whole thing made him want to pick at his fingers but he held himself back. His hands were starting to get ugly again, all torn and scabbed at the tips. But he couldn’t help it. Akaashi did notice that he began to grow more conscious of when he was tempted to do it after that night at the café with Bokuto. 

When they were done, Suga picked up their plates and threw them away, and beckoned Akaashi to go sit on the couch with him. 

Oh no.

“Sorry it’s such a mess, I ended up knocking out here. I got home at like three in the morning.”

“Why didn’t you just spend the night with them? I’m sure they wouldn’t have minded.”

“Uh, I never spend nights with anybody,” Akaashi knitted his brows together. He was sure he had told Suga that at some point.

“Really? But I thought you let Terushima stay here,” Suga’s head cocked to the side in confusion.

“Oh well that’s different,” Akaashi muttered, crossing his legs underneath him, making himself comfortable. The faux leather whined underneath him and he cringed, not liking the sound. 

“How is it different?”

“Well, I don’t know how to explain it,” Akaashi bit his lip in thought. “But he’s different from the rest, I guess. I think he and I have pretty similar mindsets, so I know he wouldn’t take it the wrong way, or think I’m into him or anything. Plus, when he does stay I always end up sleeping in the spare room or on the couch. I just don’t like the idea of sleeping with someone. I think it’s too intimate.” 

“But you sleep with me whenever we stay at each others,” Suga pouted playfully, bashing his lashes dramatically, making Akaashi roll his eyes. “Okay, that's only because I love you,” he said matter-of-factly, which made Suga smile and reply with a whiny, “Obviously!”

Their laughter died down, and made Akaashi nervous, and as if on cue Suga asked, “So how was your session with Kiyoko?”

Akaashi shifted in his seat, and was about to reach for the cigarettes on the coffee table when Suga slapped his hands away from the packet. 

“No! You’ve been smoking _way_ too much and I don’t want to smell like tobacco.” 

“But I’m nervous!” 

“I don’t care!” 

“This is my house!”

“Stop stalling Keiji.”

Akaashi sighed and began fiddling with his fingers. “Well, we didn’t get a chance to talk about that whole thing when I saw Bokuto at Kuroo’s, because I didn’t want to, but it was a pretty heavy session,” he tried to switch to twirling his ring around his index finger instead of picking at the scabs. Akaashi could feel Suga looking at him, and he knew he meant it in a comforting way, to show that he had his full attention, but it was making him nervous. “She kind of made me realize why I have the types of relationships I have.”

“And why do you?”

“Well, in psychology, we’re taught that the human mind unconsciously tries to protect itself. It’s why if you have childhood trauma, you have really patchy memories, and things like that. Kiyoko basically said that what I do is a defense mechanism, like -- like I’m unconsciously preparing myself to get raped again by desensitizing myself to sex. Which -- I mean, it makes sense, but she said it so bluntly that it overwhelmed me a little.”

“Were you overwhelmed because you already knew and someone was telling you that to your face, or because you’re finally getting a professional explanation to why this has been going on?”

“It scares me that I know there’s something wrong with me, because normal people don’t do the things I do or act the way I do. I mean — it’s obvious I struggle with certain disorders, but I don’t like the feeling of being on meds Koushi. I wasn’t myself at all when they had me on that junk,” Akaashi sighed, his fingernails were starting to scratch the skin of his index finger from twirling the band so harshly around the digit. “It’s obvious to me that I do these things to make myself feel better, but now I just feel like I’m one of the worst versions of myself.”

“Why do you say that?” A frown was etched on his face.

“Well, sometimes I just feel like -- I don’t know -- like I can’t feel anything?” His voice came out more like a question than a statement. “I went to see Kuroo after my appointment with Kiyoko and I just -- I said all these horrible things. But the thing is, I don’t even feel bad. I feel like some part of me is broken or needs to be fixed or something.”

“What did you guys argue about?”

“You’re probably not going to like it,” Akaashi winced. “But, I just -- _ugh_ , I went to go see him just to relieve some stress, but I also wanted to see Suna, because I just had a feeling that Kuroo was going to piss me off. So, I called Suna and he didn’t answer, but he called me back when I was at Kuroo’s and I answered and didn’t think anything of it, because I answer the phone around him all the time -- I don’t know if I caught him on a bad day as well, but _whatever_ . He got the hint that it was Suna calling and that I was going to go see him after and he got so _angry_ and got in my face about it.”

“And what did _you_ say?” The question was laced with a venom that Akaashi wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with, but this was part of the thing that Akaashi needed to get off his chest as well.

“I -- I told him that he had no right getting angry with me because he knows I see other people -- which is true! I’ve always been transparent with him and everybody else about it. I don’t know why he took it to heart like that.”

“Have you ever considered that it might have been rude to start making plans with someone else when you were still with him Keiji?” Suga’s brow was arched in confusion, like he couldn’t fathom what was going through Akaashi’s head. “Wouldn’t you be offended if the roles were reversed?”

“Well, I wouldn’t, I don’t care if he were to see other people, and he’s not supposed to care that I do. I just don’t understand why that would be rude if he and I have an agreement on what goes and doesn’t.”

“You know he likes you, right? So why are you still seeing him and stringing him along? You don’t understand why he feels the way he does because you don’t like him, and -- you actually haven’t been romantically interested in anybody for years.”

“That shouldn’t have to do with it though, he should know to respect my boundaries and not let his personal feelings into what we have.”

“Not everyone is like you Akaashi,” Suga sighed, Akaashi could tell he was getting frustrated. “Your boundaries aren’t realistic for someone like Kuroo. That dynamic might work for everybody else, but he has _feelings_ for you, dude. Obviously the idea of you being with other people and _flaunting it_ is going to get to him. And I know what you’re going to say, that it’s not part of the ‘agreement’ but not everyone is as detached as you are.”

“Detached? That’s not what it is, I just know my boundaries --”

“No, your boundaries don’t have to do with this. I know you’re not telling me everything you said, and I’m positive you said some pretty fucked up things out of spite -- but I’m sure you liked it as well. It’s not ok to be putting him through this just because you have trauma. You can’t expect someone to not fall for you just because you don’t fall for them either. You’re in the wrong in this situation, and I think you should apologize to him.”

Akaashi was taken aback. Suga never got in his face about these sorts of things, but he never did egg him on either. He was caring and all soft edges, Akaashi knew that he didn’t like the things he did, but he’s never said this before. Nobody has ever told Akaashi he was in the wrong. 

Yet, he still felt he was in the right. 

Maybe that was his stubbornness, or maybe there was something really _deeply_ wrong with his head. Or maybe some sick twisted part of him was using his trauma as an excuse to project onto others. Maybe he didn’t want to be the only one that was fucked up in the head, so he wanted to hurt other people enough to the point where they turned into him too. Maybe.

“He deserved it.”

“Okay, see what you’re not going to do is _that_ . As your friend I’m telling you that _you’re_ in the wrong and Kuroo _deserves_ an apology.” His voice, which was usually soft and calm, was getting grittier and rougher as he raised his voice. “You can’t let your trauma be the reason you’re a fucked up person. Your trauma wasn't your fault _at all_ , but it’s your job to make sure it doesn’t turn you into a shitty person and bring others down with you as well as yourself. What happened to you wasn’t your fault or theirs. And I’ve gone a long time listening to the things that you do because I _know_ this isn’t who you are, but this is too much, even for you. Kuroo _loves_ you Keiji. I’m not telling you to love him back, but just be _considerate_ or _gentle,_ I don’t know! Be better than this.” 

Angry vile rose in Akaashi’s throat at Suga’s words, and he _wanted_ to calm down, but he _couldn’t_ . “You think I want to be like this Koushi?” He stood from where he was sitting, an aching feeling in his chest. Did Suga think he was some monster or something? “I don’t want to be a fucked up person, I don’t want to be like _this_ , I don’t want to be _me_ . But I don’t know how to _fix_ it, and this, the way I am right now, is probably the only reason why I’m still alive. I can’t afford to be gentle or soft, because if I am, something will happen again a--and that’ll send me over the edge.” 

Suga grabbed him by his hands gently, anchoring him back to reality and forced him to sit back down on the couch. He hadn’t realized that hot tears were making their way down his cheeks and he gasped back a sob. “I didn’t mean to make you upset, but I’m just telling you how it is,” Suga’s voice was gentle again, he had his hands on Akaashi’s cheeks, fingers wiping his tears as they came down. “I don’t think you’re a bad person Keiji, I love you and I love _all_ of you. But this isn’t something that Kuroo deserved and I just need you to realize that. You know why you are the way you are, and you know you’re projecting onto him, and he doesn’t deserve it. He’s been nothing but kind to you, right?”

Akaashi nodded hesitantly. Kuroo was always the nicest out of whoever he was with, and it wasn’t something that went unnoticed by Akaashi. He would always ask him to let him know when he got home if it was later in the evening, and sometimes he would even walk him back to Akaashi’s apartment if it was already nightfall. The first time they were at Kuroo’s apartment he told Akaashi that his home was also his, and to tell him if he was ever uncomfortable with anything they did. Kuroo even had Akaashi’s preferred body wash and shampoo and conditioner in his shower for when he had to shower there, because he knew that Akaashi didn’t like breaking off from his norms. 

Suga was right, Kuroo was one of the last people on this planet that deserved to see that side of him. He couldn’t help but be tinged with an overwhelming sense of guilt. 

“I know you can’t help it, and don’t think I’m judging your coping skills. But, maybe it’s time to stop coping and heal, don’t you think?” The smile on his lips was warm and genuine. “I’m not telling you to completely change your ways, but vulnerability isn’t so bad, is it? I know you aren’t so keen on the idea, but, maybe try being friends with him, if he’ll have you. I think that would do a lot of good and could set you up for a bunch of new opportunities, because he genuinely cares about you.”

“You -- you don’t think he hates me?”

“I completely doubt he does. But I do think he’s still upset, and he might be angry and go off on you, but I do think he’ll still hear you out,” he had pulled the younger into his chest and was now soothingly running his hands through his curls. 

“You’re right, I’ll go apologize to him right now.” Akaashi stood up and rushed to his room for some clean clothes. He didn’t know where the sudden sense of putting his pride aside came from, but he wanted to be better. And being a better person came along with that as well. He couldn’t be like this forever. Right?

“Oh, right now?” He heard Suga ask from down the hall, surprise clear in his voice. 

“Well if not now, then when!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally some character development from Akaashi! so excited for you guys to see next chapter :)


	11. Affection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for chapter: Affection - BETWEEN FRIENDS

Akaashi took a shaky drag of his cigarette before putting it out in an ashtray just outside the exit of the elevator, heading towards apartment twenty-two: Kuroo’s. He paced around for a bit, thinking whether this was a good idea or not. It would do no personal damage to Akaashi to simply never speak to him again, but deep _deep_ down inside him, the _soft_ part of him believed what Koushi said to be true. Apologizing would do so much good to Akaashi _and_ Kuroo -- there was _nothing_ to lose. Maybe except his dignity, but he was trying hard not to think about that. He didn’t want to regret doing this. Another, smaller part of him also didn’t want to stop seeing Kuroo. Thinking about the things that he did for Akaashi and how he genuinely cared for him, even after everything he had put him through these past few months, made something ache in him. 

It made Akaashi’s stomach flutter in an unfamiliar way, and made him shift in his stance awkwardly. Without trying to think and going against every bone in his body, he knocked on the door, one, two, three times, and his breath hitched. It wasn’t too late, he could catch the elevator right now, he’d have time.

The door opened and he jumped slightly, and he was met with golden eyes. 

_This_ shit again. 

No. He can’t care about what he would think. He had nothing to do with this, and it didn’t concern him. Akaashi came here to do _one_ thing and he was gonna fucking do it. 

“Hi Bokuto-san,” he shot the taller man a smile and he noticed that when he mirrored him, it was tight and forced. It made Akaashi’s stomach twist into a knot. He _knows_. Surely Kuroo told him how much of a shitty person he was. How he only thought of himself and didn’t care about anybody’s feelings. How he was an asshole.

“Hey Akaashi! You’re looking for Kuroo I’m assuming?” 

“U--uh, yeah, but he has company, so it’s ok, I’ll come by another time.” That’s _not_ what Akaashi wanted to say at all, but it was as if his mouth had a mind of its own. 

“Ah no, it’s ok! I was actually just about to leave,” Bokuto smiled, the tightness now gone. “He’s in his room though, he’s -- uh -- been a bit down.” Akaashi internally winced. _Yeah, because of me_ , he thought. Bokuto stepped out and motioned for Akaashi to go inside. “I think he’ll be happy to see you.”

Before Akaashi had the chance to reply, Bokuto was already on his way to the elevator. _It’s ok_ , Akaashi thought. He could deal with that later, _this_ was more important. He let out a huff of air and closed the door softly behind him and slipped his shoes off. 

This is it. This is either going to go really good or really bad. But it’ll be ok either way. 

He made his way towards the room he’s been too way too many times, the faint smell of smoke making him furrow his brows, as he knew Kuroo wasn’t much of a smoker, as well as some soft music. It sounded like it was his band’s song, going off the voice that Akaashi knew was Kuroo singing. He’d probably get embarrassed that Akaashi heard. 

Akaashi knocked lightly on the door. “Koutaro? I thought you were leaving. Did you forget something?” Akaashi opened the door abashedly, feeling his ears heat up when he met eyes with the raven haired man who greeted him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. 

“Oh.”

Akaashi felt his heart sink to his stomach, and before he could think he stuttered out a, “F--fuck. I--I’m sorry, I’m probably the last person you want to see. I’ll --”

“No!” Kuroo exclaimed, standing up from his place on his bed. He had his bass in one hand, and it looked comically small compared to his large frame. “C--come in, please.” His eyes made Akaashi wince. He looked so sad, so desperate. There was a slight shadow on his face that wasn’t usually there from light stubble and his hair was even _messier_ than it usually was, if that was even possible. Akaashi did that to him. And it didn’t feel good to let that sink in. . 

He pressed his lips into a thin line and made his way towards him and sat down on the spot besides where he was sitting before. Kuroo plopped down besides him with a sigh, setting his bass onto his bed before resting his elbows on his knees and face in his hands. 

“Tetsuro, I --”

“No. Me first.”

Akaashi gulped, but nodded. Kuroo finally took his face out of his hands and looked at Akaashi with glossy eyes, there were dark bags underneath them. 

“That was fucked up, even for you.”

“I know.”

“So then why say those things? Why did you even think that was ok to do and say? You -- you _know_ how I feel about you, and I just _let you_ string me along, and you still do these things?” 

Akaashi held his breath, not knowing the right thing to say was scary. He didn’t want to say too much about himself, because those parts were meant just for him and no one else was meant to see them. Because they were intimate and they were ugly, too ugly to see the light of day.

Kuroo beat him to speak. 

“I know this wasn’t part of the -- the agreement, and I know this isn’t going to stop you from seeing other people, and I’m not telling you to not see other people. But, c--can you just not do that again? I can learn to be ok with sharing you, but just… don’t be so cold. Please.”

Akaashi frowned, an uncomfortable silence filling the room as he tried to think of what to say next. It wasn’t like Akaashi to ever get this deep with someone who he was seeing. He had never had these types of arguments with them, nor did he ever usually sympathize with them. But for some reason, he was right now. He could feel the guilt rising in his stomach and throat, he was sure he was going to say things he didn’t want to. But for once, he wanted to make Kuroo feel better. Because he’s a good person, and he deserves it.

“I’m not really sure what came over me,” he twirled the ring around his index finger, picking lightly at the scabs underneath it. “W--well I do. I had just gotten out of therapy and I wasn’t in the best of moods, not that that’s an excuse. I shouldn’t have said the things I said,” Akaashi hesitated before putting a hand over Kuroo’s, they were shaking in his lap, he could tell he was fighting back tears. “But you didn’t deserve to have those things said to you, and I’m so _so_ sorry Tetsuro.” He intertwined one of their hands and placed the other on his cheek, making him look at him.

“You _didn’t_ deserve that,” he repeated, his thumb stroking at the stubbly skin on his jaw. “And I hope you can forgive me. I want to be a better person, and I -- I want to be a better person for you as well.” Kuroo furrowed his brows. “I’m not saying that the dynamic is going to change much, but I don’t think it would hurt for us t--to be friends as well. If you’ll have me.” 

“Y--yes! Of course,” Kuroo breathed. Akaashi had never said these types of things. And Kuroo would never say it out loud, but for months he’s been keeping himself going by taking whatever part of Akaashi he wanted to throw Kuroo’s way. He fed off the small gestures and flirtatious smiles as best he could. But _this_ ? This wasn’t what Kuroo expected from the curly haired boy _at all_. He didn’t even expect to hear him genuinely apologize. Part of him almost couldn’t believe this. That Akaashi wanted to be personal with him and let him in, even if just in the slightest, smallest way. It meant more to Kuroo than it probably meant to Akaashi. But that was ok. 

“What does this mean though?” Kuroo questioned, pulling away from Akaashi’s touch and untwining their hands. 

“I’m not so sure yet,” Akaashi thought, pursing his lips. “What I will say though is that I’m not going to stop seeing everybody else. I know that’s not what you want to hear but,” Akaashi sighed, closing his eyes. “This is just how I cope. But I won’t be an asshole anymore, a--and we can get to know each other. For real,” he smiled softly at Kuroo who smiled back at Akaashi. 

“Is there anything _you_ want to change?” Akaashi asked, lying back onto Kuroo’s bed and turning onto his side so he could still see his face. Kuroo laid back as well, moving his bass further up the bed and putting his arms behind his head. He huffed out a breath.

“I just want you to be ok with telling me things. I don’t want to rush your little coming of age film moment,” he chuckled, eliciting a small laugh and eye roll from Akaashi as well. “But that’s all I want from you. I know you’ve never told me anything, but I can tell you haven’t been yourself for a few weeks.” His words made a swelling feeling in Akaashi’s chest ripple throughout his body, and he couldn’t quite put a word to the emotion. He toppled onto his back with a huff. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me Kuroo. And I’m not too sure you’ll still feel the same about me once you do. I’ve done a lot of bad things to be where I am right now. And the me I am right now still isn’t the best, as you can tell.”

“But are you ok?” Kuroo asked, turning his head to Akaashi who mirrored him.

“I will be,” Akaashi smiled gently, but Kuroo could tell it didn’t reach his eyes. Akaashi turned on his side again and put a hand on Kuroo’s chest, gnawing lightly on his lip. He had on a white tee and his tattoos were visible through the thin material. “I’m sorry that you had to see that side of me Kuroo, I really won’t do it again.” His voice began to grow small and he could tell that Kuroo was having some internal debate in his head. 

“The things you said that day... is that really how you feel about me?”

“Would you believe me if I said no?”

“I don’t think so,” Kuroo frowned. “Because I see and hear how you treat the others and -- I don’t know, it just hurts. That whole thing at the club made me upset too, it’s like you were trying to get to me.”

Akaashi sighed. God, he _really_ wanted another cigarette. “I don’t want to victimize myself anymore than I probably already have. I’m not here to make _you_ feel bad about _me_ or tell you the sob story that’s my life and why I’m this way. I -- I just,” he twirled the ring on his finger nervously. “I just think that I can’t comprehend people -- someone like _you_ \-- caring about me, you know? Sure, I have friends and family, but intimacy with anybody else just feels so foreign and I don’t know how to receive it. Part of me gets angry, for some reason.”

Akaashi had never said these things out loud. It was almost getting to be too much, too personal, but he tried his hardest to fight the urge to bite back his words. How else would Kuroo understand? He was starting to shake with anxiety, his jaw on the verge of chattering as if it was cold in the room, he could feel his heart pounding against his chest.

“I get defensive, I guess, so I lash out because I don’t know anything else. I -- I had a really _really_ bad experience when I was in high school with someone I was dating and he just -- he did _something_ and it still follows me; I can’t let it go. I don’t purposefully project, I really don’t mean to, but I just haven’t gotten over it. I’m not sure I ever will. But this is me trying,” Akaashi smiled softly, but Kuroo could see how his eyes had turned glossy. 

“You know I would never hurt you Akaashi.”

“I know,” he breathed. “You’re too good of a person. I just can’t help but feel like everyone is out to get me, and it’s scary. It’s hard to let go of a mindset like that. But it gave me no right to say those things, or-- -- or to make you upset at the club either. My ego is what keeps me going, and when -- when I do or say things like that, I feel like it’s _me_ that’s in power and it’s _me_ in control.”

“T--that boy in high school… did he…”

Akaashi’s lip quivered and he looked away from Kuroo, feeling tears pool in his eyes. Did he want to admit to that? Was Kuroo worth exposing one of the ugliest parts of his life? Akaashi couldn’t help but have flashbacks to Suga in his apartment and to Kiyoko. Was healing worth it if it meant vulnerability? He let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes, nodding, and Kuroo felt his heart break at the sight. He watched as Akaashi put his hands over his face to muffle a sob as he sat up, bringing his knees to his chest. 

“Can I hold you?”

“Please,” Akaashi whimpered. Kuroo wrapped his arms around the younger’s smaller frame, keeping his hands wrapped around his upper body so as to not make him uncomfortable. “I--I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make this about me, b--because it’s supposed to be me apologizing to _you_ but -- I just need you to know that this is all _me_ , and it’s _not_ you. It was never you, _ever_ . You’re too good to have had those things said to you and I am _so_ fucking sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Kuroo whispered, pressing a kiss to Akaashi’s temples. He was rubbing the space between his shoulder blades soothingly. He could feel his heartbeat. Akaashi was so afraid to admit to that, like he was ashamed, and it made Kuroo’s blood boil. Though he had done and said a lot of messed up things to Kuroo in the past, he didn’t deserve that to happen to him at all. Kuroo wished he could take all his pain away. Every last drop.

“I get it now, and you don’t have to explain any more, okay? I understand.”

It made sense. It _all_ made sense. The way Akaashi seemed so afraid of intimacy and called Kuroo out whenever he tried to cross the younger’s boundaries. Never wanting to be romantically involved. The fear in his eyes whenever they argued, like he was afraid Kuroo was going to do something to him. The cold front he’s put on for as long as they’ve known each other. 

Before knowing that, Kuroo physically still had things to say about how he felt. But this? Seeing Akaashi emotionally unravel in front of him and tell him something so personal? Kuroo realized that their conversation _did_ in fact mean just as much to Akaashi as it did to Kuroo. He fought the flutter of excitement that wanted to rush through him, but he couldn’t hold it back. Akaashi was letting him in, and Kuroo felt on top of the world. 

“Thank you. I hope you can forgive me.” Akaashi said it so quietly Kuroo could barely hear him.

Akaashi could physically feel a weight lift off his shoulders. All these months he thought that weight was the rape. But it wasn’t. He had rid himself of the anxiety he felt when he walked home late at night, being alone, and having sex a long time ago. _He_ didn’t have that power over Akaashi anymore, he hasn’t had it for _years_ , Akaashi realized. It was this. This was the weight Akaashi has felt all these years. He’s been carrying all this inside him for so long, never feeling that people had the right to know what happened to him. Yes, nobody _needed_ to know, but the feeling of not being the only one holding himself up was what Akaashi realized he’s needed all this time.

If life were a movie, Akaashi would say that this was the light at the end of the tunnel, and all the nasty and pretty memories flashing before his eyes would usually make his lungs fill to the brim with trembling anxiety. But not right now, not in Kuroo’s arms, not with Kuroo knowing this. 

For the first time in a long time, Akaashi felt ok. Genuinely. Things felt alright. 

It felt like hours before Akaashi freed himself from Kuroo’s embrace, though he wouldn’t admit it, he could’ve stayed like that until it turned dark. And when he finally met eyes with the older man, he could see the softness and tenderness in them. He could tell that he cared about what Akaashi had to say, and it spread a feeling of warmth through Akaashi’s chest. 

He wiped at his eyes, “Ugh, I’m sorry. The whole point in me coming here was supposed to be this grand gesture and you ended up being the one to comfort _me_.” Kuroo grabbed his face gently and smiled, “You apologize too much Akaashi-san.” He brought their lips together. It wasn’t dirty, there was no hidden intention, no masked lust, just a reminder that he was there, like a hug. It made Akaashi smile and lean into Kuroo’s touch, before parting their lips with a small ‘pop.’ 

“You’re lying, I don’t do it enough,” Akaashi chuckled.

Then he was filled with that familiar urge.

_See you._

_I’m leaving now._

_I’ll come tomorrow._

“Do you think you could stay for a bit? We can… watch a movie or something.”

“How about we watch a show instead?”

“Wait really?”

“Only if I get to pick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally the long awaited bit of character development everyone was waiting for! i definitely enjoyed writing a lot! seeing Akaashi slowly develop into someone he didn't think he could be is nice and humbling :) let me know what you guys think <3


	12. Dream Ivory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for chapter: Dream, Ivory - Dream, Ivory

“Ah, hi Bokuto-san,” Akaashi smiled sheepishly, fiddling with the handles of the plastic bag he was holding. “I wasn’t sure what to bring, so I got one of those strawberry cakes from the convenience store and those veggie chips you used to like so much back in high school. For later.”

“Akaashi! Come in!” Akaashi couldn’t help but notice the red tinting his ears. He stepped out of his shoes, wobbling awkwardly as he tried not to fall over. “Thank you for the treats, I’m surprised you remembered the veggie chip thing,” he rubbed the back of his neck abashedly and Akaashi couldn’t help but smile softly at the gesture. 

“You know, I was surprised when you told me you wanted to have a study session together,” Akaashi mentioned, shrugging his coat off his shoulders, all while trying to not drop the plastic bag and his backpack in his hand. “I didn’t know you were going to school also.”

“I’m not just some dumb jock, ‘Kaashi-kun,” Bokuto chuckled, taking the bags out of Akaashi’s hands wordlessly, and heading to the kitchen, setting them down on a chair. 

“Don’t go putting words in my mouth now Bokuto-san,” Akaashi tsked, folding his coat in half and placing it on the couch -- the furniture in Bokuto’s apartment wasn’t what Akaashi had really expected. He knew Bokuto to be the kind of person to not know what goes and what doesn’t, so seeing his home with a theme of yellows and neutrals was pleasing to the eyes. It was also really neat -- surprisingly. Yellow was Akaashi’s favorite color. 

“What are you majoring in?”

“Sociology! I took a class when I was a first year and I thought it was really interesting. Besides, I won’t be able to play volleyball once I’m all old and wrinkly, gotta be prepared,” his smile didn’t reach his eyes, and Akaashi noticed. 

“You would if you could though… right?”

“Of course!” Bokuto exclaimed, plopping into a seat at the dining table, all his books and notebooks splayed out on the table. There he is. There’s the unorganized guy Akaashi knew Bokuto was. “I’ve never experienced anything that gets me as happy and excited as volleyball! But sadly, we  _ all  _ get old and wrinkly, and I won’t be able to play forever.”

“Not even coach?” Akaashi questioned, taking a seat across from Bokuto. He wanted to be able to see his face properly. Something about his aura was different today. 

“Nah,” Bokuto waved his hand dismissively, Akaashi noted his nails were coated with a fresh coat of black polish. It was messy at the edges and smeared lightly, but they made his hands look nice. “I don’t think I’d be satisfied with coaching, it’s not the same as playing. Besides, I actually like what I’m majoring in, I’d probably be a professor or something, maybe do some research of my own one day.”

“That’s nice, Bokuto-san. I didn’t take you as the type to want to go into a field like that. I took a sociology course once and it was…  _ pretty  _ heavy,” Akaashi sighed, leaning back into his seat before grabbing his bag to take out one of his school books and its corresponding notebook. 

“Says the one who’s majoring in psychology,” Bokuto rolled his eyes. He watched as Akaashi lined up a bunch of colored pens, seemingly in a specific order, before opening his books. The younger was so neat, it was almost bringing Bokuto to shame, who wrote in pencil and had no color coordination whatsoever.

“Ok well at least in my major I don’t have to study why  _ everything  _ is the way it is, only the mind,” Akaashi pointed out with pursed lips.

Bokuto crossed his arms and sighed, “Ignorance sure is bliss, huh?”

Akaashi rolled his eyes and snickered at the older man, offering him a stick of gum, “You know, they say that chewing gum while you study and while you take exams helps.”

“Ok but why?” He took a piece with narrowed eyes, and Akaashi couldn’t help but chuckle at his expression.

“Well,” he shoved the pack of gum back into his pocket, heart sinking when he didn’t feel his cigarettes. Damn Koushi. He really snaked Akaashi out and found almost every pack he had. “Something about an increase in blood flow and more oxygen in your brain -- I don’t know, I just remember one of my psych professors telling me when I was a freshman and I’ve just been doing it ever since,” Akaashi shrugged, taking his phone out.

“Do you listen to music when you study Bokuto-san?” He scrolled through his playlists, trying to find one that wasn’t full of  _ too  _ much depressing music. Bringing even more concern to himself was something he was madly stressing about  _ not  _ doing, because he knew it was only a matter of time before Bokuto asked about Kuroo. But somehow, Akaashi wasn’t fully opposed to it now. They usually texted everyday, and sometimes they’d even facetime, they had definitely gotten close. Things were almost like back in high school.  _ Almost _ . 

“Mmm, sometimes, I can get distracted easily with it, but I also want to hear what you listen to, so go ahead,” Akaashi watched as he scribbled down something in his notebook, smiling at the messy kanji on the paper. He missed this. 

“Well now you made me nervous, what if you don’t like it?” Akaashi questioned, he had gone through his Spotify twice and didn’t find a playlist that suited the vibe. It was making his palms sweat. But it wasn’t that serious, right? 

“I’ll probably like it if you like it,” Bokuto shrugged. 

Akaashi blushed at the comment and ended up picking an album from one of his favorite American artists -- not too mellow, not too rowdy. Just right. 

“Oh you know this artist? I didn’t know you understood English,” he looked up from his notes with raised brows, waiting tentatively for Akaashi to answer.

“I speak it alright, I’ve been to the states a few times and I didn’t want to go without knowing it. I actually went to go see him in Vegas once,” Akaashi smiled softly at the memory. It was about a year ago that Terushima surprised him with tickets to go see him, they spent a few days at one of the more luxurious hotels in the city, going to exclusive parties and fucking  _ everywhere _ . It was a lively place, and one of the most suiting places to go see the artist, as the album was centered around the city. Akaashi couldn’t help but feel as if he were in some sort of film, going about the streets in the middle of the night with the blond and partying until the sun came up. It was one of the best birthdays ever. 

“Oh really?! Who did you go with?” Bokuto asked, stars in his eyes. Akaashi hesitated slightly before responding. “I went with a friend, his name is Terushima, but I don’t think you know him.”

“That sounds so fun Akaashi! How many days did you go for?”

Akaashi appreciated that he asked no extra questions. 

“Uh, about four days? We went for my birthday -- a Friday -- and left on Monday I think?” He thought back to those days and nodded when he remembered those were the days he was there. They had stayed at some crazy hotel and their room had  _ two  _ floors. Terushima didn’t even want to tell him how much he spent, but Akaashi, for once, was ok with it. Not that he minded when the blond spent money on him. 

“Gah! I’m so jealous! I’ve been to America a few times as well for games and whatnot, but I’ve never experienced a party city like Vegas, I feel like I’m missing out!”

“I do think you’d like it. You’re into the party scene huh?” Akaashi took a sip of the water he had brought with him. It didn’t seem there would be much time to study today, but that was ok because he had accounted for that and finished most of his notes and work at home. 

“Oh, definitely,” Bokuto stated matter-of-factly. “How could I not be? Living in Tokyo is so much fun, especially the night life! It seems you like it too, going off of when I saw you at the club!”

“O--oh! You saw me and didn’t say hi?” Akaashi’s hands became clammy at the comment. Had Bokuto seen him with both Suna  _ and  _ Atsumu? There would really be no getting out of this really. How could he explain Kuroo  _ and  _ being all up on two different guys? 

“Well you looked a little  _ busy _ ,” Bokuto winked, letting out a boisterous laugh when Akaashi’s face turned beet red and he began mumbling excuses.

“No need for excuses Akaashi-kun, you’re a grown adult and can do whatever you want. No judgement here whatsoever!”

Akaashi’s anxiety eased slightly at the reassurance. He knew Bokuto wasn’t the type to make snarky comments about the things people did -- especially the things they did in their personal lives. That was something the two had in common, and Akaashi only came to have that mindset partly because of Bokuto himself. He used to be a bit uptight when they were younger and make petty comments, but Bokuto always told him it wasn’t good to be up in other people's business. Maybe Akaashi took that too far -- but oh well. 

“Y--yeah, you’re right. I was just seeing a couple of  _ uh _ , you know,” Akaashi fiddled with the ring on his finger lightly, twirling it around the digit. Better than picking at them with his nails. “Entanglements?” Bokuto barked out a laugh at that, almost falling back with his chair when he leaned too far back, making Akaashi laugh along with him. He couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward telling him these things -- they were childhood friends and they had never talked about these types of things because they weren’t doing it regularly back in high school.

They ended up -- much to Akaashi’s surprise -- studying for about an hour and a half. Most of it was in a comfortable silence. Akaashi changed the music once it looped through the album and the two ended up filling a queue together, taking turns and adding a song of their choice. The two ended up ordering take-out, and were now sitting in Bokuto’s living room with blankets around their waists and watching some documentary on Netflix. They found out that watching nature documentaries were both their guilty pleasures and settled on one about the ocean. 

“How cool would it be to go to the bottom of the ocean, don’t you think?” Bokuto asked, chopsticks in one hand and a take-out cup filled with noodles in the other. 

“I’d probably have anxiety. You don’t think it’d be scary to be under the weight of all that water?” Akaashi watched the screen, a team of people submerged under hundreds of thousands of pounds of water. The idea of no escape and no possible survival was what gave Akaashi anxiety thinking about being in that situation. He took a bite of broccoli, and looked at Bokuto, waiting for his answer. 

“You overthink things too much ‘Kaashi. I’m sure that  _ very  _ rarely happens. I think it would be cool to be under all that water, not everybody gets to experience that, it’d be so thrilling!”

“Hm, maybe you’re right,” Akaashi shrugged. He could feel the warmth radiating off of Bokuto’s body, it was comforting. But too hot. He could feel his thighs begin to sweat slightly. Bokuto always ran warmer than most, and that fact still held truth to this day. Akaashi’s eyes trailed to Bokuto’s arms and the sleeve on his right arm filled with intricate designs and pretty lettering. 

“You like them? My parents hate them,” Bokuto murmured, rubbing the inked arm. Akaashi nodded, but frowned lightly at his last words. “Here, you can look at them,” Bokuto turned and sat on his thighs to give Akaashi a better view. The younger hesitated before placing his hands on the bulky arm, turning it slightly to have a full view of the ink filling his skin. He could feel Bokuto tensing under his touch. The designs themselves didn’t seem to correlate much with each other, yet somehow meddled together nicely. “What’s this one?” It was a girl with short hair, there was no shading, as it appeared they all did have a minimalistic design, and there were red flowers behind her. “Ah, that’s a portrait of my mom when she was younger, but I changed up the style obviously,” his ears were red and Akaashi could tell he was trying his best to hold himself together under Akaashi’s gaze and touch. Why was he so nervous?

“Yourself?” Akaashi raised a brow and Bokuto nodded, making Akaashi gape and slap his bicep. “You didn’t tell me you were so good at drawing Bokuto-san!”

“Well you didn’t ask!” He rubbed his arm lightly and Akaashi rolled his eyes at the gesture -- classic dramatic Bokuto.

“They look nice, I think they compliment you,” Akaashi smiled, tracing the surrounding flowers. Hibiscus flowers. Those were always Bokuto’s moms favorite, Akaashi would always bring her one as soon as the plant bloomed in his front yard because he knew she loved them so much. “I’ve always wanted some too, but I think I’ve always chickened out because I’m afraid they’ll hurt. That, or I’m afraid I’ll like getting them so much that I’ll never be able to stop.”

“You’re really an all or nothing type of person now, huh, Kaashi-kun?” Akaashi could feel the goosebumps on Bokuto’s arms, their eyes bore into each other’s, so much so that everything but his golden eyes were out of focus. Yet, they both couldn’t look away. Not even the used-to-be bushy eyebrows, now clean and up kept were in focus, or the smile on his lips, which was suggesting  _ something  _ Akaashi couldn’t quite pinpoint. Had Bokuto’s facial features always been this soft? Or was he looking at Akaashi in a way to not make him tread ten steps back, and instead pleading him to go ten forward? 

“It can’t be helped. Things are either too good for you or too bad, don’t you think?” Bokuto was so close to now, Akaashi could see his heartbeat in the veins of his neck and the pores on his face. 

“Can you really have too much of a good thing though?”

“It can be overwhelming.”

“Is this?” His eyes had flickered down to his lips. 

Akaashi pulled away and cleared his throat at the ring of his phone. He could feel the heat pooling in his cheeks when he noticed that his hands had somehow been at the sides of Bokuto’s neck. 

“Sorry, let me take this,” Bokuto nodded, avoiding his gaze. Akaashi got off the couch with a huff and walked into the kitchen for a bit of privacy. This was getting to be too much. Maybe he should go. 

“Hello?” He hadn’t looked at who called him.

“Are you busy tonight Akaashi?”

It was Terushima. 

“Uh, well I’m at a friends house right now, but I do think I might be leaving soon. What did you have in mind?”

Akaashi needed to be reminded of who he was. Because this wasn’t him. Watching nature documentaries and having moments where it seemed like it was only him and Bokuto and nobody else wasn’t Akaashi at all. It was making his hands shake slightly, and he couldn’t tell if it was from adrenaline or from anxiety. What happened right now went against  _ every  _ grain in his body. But he couldn’t help but feel a sense of desire from the look that Bokuto was giving him, like he was baiting him and waiting to see what he would do. Was it real or had he just imagined it?

“I got us a room with a nice view. Is it ok if I send Daichi to get you?”

“Yes, that’s fine, I’ll send him my location. I’ll see you soon.”

Ten steps  _ back _ . Where he was meant to be. Where he belonged.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit of a filler chapter for y'all, but some Bokuaka content for you guys! next chapter will be a LOT more interesting :)


	13. Til It Happens To You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: mentions of sexual assault
> 
> \-----
> 
> song for chapter: Til It Happens To You - Lady Gaga

“And did you ever get over those feelings?”

Akaashi pursed his lips in thought, and decided to think out loud. 

“It’s been years, so I had to have, right? It’s not like I’m capable of those types of feelings anymore. Not right now anyways,” he murmured, shuffling in his seat slightly. Wednesday had come round faster than usual, and before he knew it he was back in Kiyoko’s comfy leather loveseat in her office with way too many books. Had she actually read all of those? Of course she had, she was one of the most intelligent people that Akaashi has ever come across. He could only hope to be half as good as her one day.

“It seems they’ve lingered, clearly. You two were childhood friends no?”

“Yeah, but I don’t see him being the root of any of my problems. Well, actually, it’s funny because I can’t bring myself to tell him about the things I do. Maybe because he’s friends with Kuroo, or maybe because I feel Kuroo has probably told him how bad of a person I am and he’s just being fake friendly to me -- is it bad that part of me feels like he’s going to come for me in some sort of way? Like he’s out to -- I don’t know -- expose this nasty part of me?”

Kiyoko pursed her lips, they were red today. “I don’t believe you’re used to having ‘outside forces’ intrude in on this part of your life. The only people you surround yourself with are people that know you and those you don’t want to know you. Like your friends from your class and Suga -- they all know, right?”

Akaashi shook his head. “The only people that know are Terushima and Suga -- er, well Kuroo knows now too.”

“Wow, what about that?” She scribbled something down into her leather bound book.

“Well, we got into this fight last week after I left from here and Suga ended up grilling my ass pretty hard,” Akaashi chuckled, toying with his fingers, reminiscing on that day made him anxious. “I know he meant well with the things he said though. I can’t keep using my trauma as an excuse to get away with being a shitty person. It’s my job to get better and the people I use to cope didn’t bring this pain on me, so they shouldn’t be feeling it. Kuroo specifically. He’s been nothing but good to me. I guess it just annoyed me that he still was somehow able to genuinely care for me, even after how badly I’ve been treating him these last few months. I’m happy I have a person like Koushi around,” Akaashi smiled. “I feel he’s made a huge dent in the way I think, in the best possible way.”

“How did it feel to talk to Kuroo -- though I’m assuming you did after what Suga told you, right?”

“I did. It was scary at first, I think. The whole time it was like my head was nagging at me to be cold and distant, because I just don’t like people seeing the intimate parts of me. I really didn’t want to make it about me when I apologized for the things I said -- because I didn’t have the right to. I told him so many horrible things, but I could tell that part of him felt that the things I said were true, and I fed into those insecurities. And it just slipped I guess. I didn’t want him to think that it was his fault I said those things. I needed him to know I said those things because there’s something wrong with  _ me _ , and not  _ him _ .”

“In what way do you feel you fed into his insecurities?”

“I’ve always belittled him when it came to our relationship. Telling him this wasn’t the way he wanted it to be, and that day I ended up saying I didn’t care for him, that he was replaceable because I could have anyone I want. It was narcissistic of me, honestly. I’m not sure what got into me.”

“Also -- I just wanted to add. There is  _ nothing  _ wrong with you Akaashi,” her words were stern, she wanted to get through to him as best she could, Akaashi could tell, and he could already feel the tears pooling in his eyes just at those simple words. It wasn’t often they talked about  _ it  _ directly.

He laughed lightly, “I know. I just can’t help but feel that way sometimes.”

“Do you blame yourself for what happened?”

“I do. I know I didn’t play a part in what he did, b—but part of me feels like I could have prevented it. If I hadn’t made him upset it wouldn’t have happened. If I hadn’t left my window open it wouldn’t have happened. I could have yelled for help, but I froze. It’s embarrassing, I — I just feel there were so many things I could have done that night and I wouldn’t be the way I am, and my relationship with my dad also wouldn’t be so strained.” Akaashi wiped a tear that had gone down his cheek. 

“There was no way you could have known this was going to happen Akaashi-san. Nobody could have  _ ever  _ known it was going to happen, these aren’t things we prepare for because we don’t want them to happen nor do we plan on them ever happening to us. You trusted him because you loved him, your vulnerability was  _ not  _ your fault -- you were in your  _ home _ , where you’re supposed to feel  _ safe  _ and he violated you and your safe haven. This was something that was done to you, not because you didn’t lock your window, or because you made him angry, he did this because there is something wrong with  _ him _ .”

It wasn’t often that they talked about the actual rape. Ever since Akaashi had first started seeing Kiyoko he told her he wanted talk of the event to be limited because he was afraid it would incite a panic attack in him, so they always kept direct talk of it to a minimum. But lately, Akaashi has found himself being more and more open to talking about it. 

Akaashi hiccupped back a sob, the words making his chest sting. 

“I -- I know those things, but I still can’t help but blame myself. Not just for what happened, but for what came of me a --  _ after _ . I was just a kid, I didn’t know how I was supposed to react --”

“There is no one way to react to these types of things Akaashi.”

“You’re right,” Akaashi breathed. “I just can’t help but feel that I -- I don’t know -- overreacted. It’s not something that’s talked about openly in our culture, especially in the era that my parents grew up in. After it happened I -- something just  _ snapped  _ in me. I couldn’t take care of myself anymore, my mom had to bathe me, and practically spoon feed me. The house wasn’t kept up with anymore because all my mom’s energy had gone into just keeping me alive. It was like I was dead weight, or -- or just this vessel of a human being.” He scratched at his cuticles, tearing the skin open. “I’ve never told anybody this but,” his voice grew smaller. “One day, maybe two weeks after it happened, my dad came into my room and laid with me. He told me about how she didn’t make lunch for him to take to work anymore, how the bins were overflowing, and how all the houseplants had died. How she cried at night and woke up screaming in her sleep. He -- he told me to pretend to be ok for my mom. S--so she could keep up with the house again.”

Hot tears were flowing down Akaashi’s cheeks now, and he watched as they dripped onto the wooden floor beneath him. Remembering this part of his life brought along with it an overwhelming sadness, a familiar dull ache that made his temples pulse and fingers cramp with anxiety. It hurt. It hurt to think that his father didn’t care about what happened as much as he cared about the house, or his mother. 

“A -- and how could I say no to  _ dad _ ? You know? Who was I to disobey my elder? The man who put a roof over a head and food on my table. I loved -- I  _ love  _ my dad, but I’ll  _ never  _ forget what he said to me. There was no guilt in his eyes, no remorse. That’s the most heartless thing  _ anybody  _ has ever said to my face. I -- I,” Akaashi choked out a sob. “I just wanted to be better for my mom, and now look at me.”

“Thank you for feeling comfortable enough to tell me that,” Akaashi was met with a nurturing smile from Kiyoko, one that wrapped him in comfort and warmth. “That wasn’t ok for your father to tell you, especially at such a young age and in the mental space you were in. As a parent, I can tell you that I would  _ never  _ tell my daughter something like that. You’re correct in the sense that his generation deals with these things differently, but as a parent, it was his job to determine what was best for  _ you _ . Not your mom. Not the house. Not the bins or the houseplants. I don’t want to demean your father, but this has clearly done it’s fair share of mental damage to you. That is not the way a parent should have dealt with a situation like that, and I am very sorry you had to deal with those heavy words for all these years. Do you believe that you still live by the words that he told you?”

The way those simple words had molded Akaashi for the past six years into the person that he is now was almost comical, in his eyes. It lived as a nagging voice in his head, one that made himself detach from friendship and relationships. It was the coldness in his own voice. Keeping these sorts of things, even from the important figures in his life, because he didn’t want them to see him in such a state. And being ok -- like dad said -- was still so,  _ so  _ far, even after six years. 

“Yes,” his voice came out a whisper. “It’s hard not to. I was waiting for some sort of sign after it happened, to make me want to push through it all and learn to live this new life that was thrown onto me. And instead, I got my dad, basically telling me that my pain was not worthwhile and was a disruption. It makes even the pain I feel now to be invalid. I feel like I should be over it and that I’ve drawn it out for too long. But I—“

“Akaashi, your fingers,” Kiyoko was handing him a tissue and he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He looked down at his hands and was met with large, open wounds surrounding two of the cuticles on his left hand, blood trickling down his thumb and middle finger.

“Oh.”

“Let me get the first aid kit.”

“Sorry, I didn’t even notice I was doing it,” he murmured.

“Have you been taking your meds?” Akaashi could hear Kiyoko rummaging through her drawers. It probably wasn’t often she had to take out the first aid kit. 

Akaashi winced at the question. “Not for a couple months. I didn’t really like how they made me feel. I tried wearing this ring, so I could toy with that instead of picking at my skin, but when I get really anxious I forget about the ring.”

Kiyoko hummed in response, taking a seat besides him after she had found the little white box. “I’ve found that some of my clients who pick at their skin as well bandage their fingers or carry something to squeeze with them, they say it helps.” Akaashi nodded, watching as she wiped his palm and fingers clean of blood with a pad of alcohol and pressed on the opened skin, feeling the familiar sting. He’d done this so many times to himself that it didn’t hurt anymore while disinfecting it. 

“Sorry, I should have asked if it was ok for me to touch you, I didn’t want you to hurt yourself or force the wound open more.”

“No, this is fine,” Akaashi smiled. She wrapped white bandage around his thumb and middle finger. 

“It’s been getting worse because Suga took all my smokes,” he pointed out. “Ah, I did notice you didn’t smell of tobacco today,” Kiyoko chuckled, eliciting a small laugh from Akaashi as well. She stood and discarded of everything, sitting back down in her usual spot across from Akaashi. 

“I hate to leave you on such a heavy note,” she glanced down at the watch on her wrist. “But I do believe today was a nice session,” she smiled softly. “I’m sure it felt good to let those things off your chest, no?”

Akaashi nodded, nails grazing the cloth around his fingers, already tainted red. 

“Telling Kuroo was also a huge step for you, I’m very proud Akaashi. During this next week, maybe try journaling about the things we talked about today. I know last week was eventful and you mentioned you weren’t able to, but I believe it’ll be of big help. Maybe try calling your mom.”

“I will Kiyoko-san,” he stood from his seat, making his way towards the door, Kiyoko behind him. 

He bowed slightly, “Thank you for today. I feel a lot better.”

“It’s always a pleasure Akaashi, see you next week.”

Akaashi felt lighter than usual, and he couldn’t help but feel a bounce in his step as he made his way towards the station. He had work in about an hour so he had just enough time to get there, and maybe a few extra minutes to chit chat with Suga or maybe even call Kuroo. He shoved his earbuds into his ears, putting some random playlist on shuffle as he continued on.

He didn’t know why he had never told anybody about what his dad told him before. Part of him felt it was because he didn’t want to bring any sort of shame on his father, because other than that, his dad had never done anything to him for Akaashi to hold a grudge against him. He knew that one day he was going to have to confront him about this, but he knew that wasn’t anytime soon. 

That’d be too much, too soon. It’d drown him. 

Within about forty-five minutes Akaashi was already tying his apron around his waist and sitting down in the back room, pulling his phone out to wait out the extra fifteen minutes he had until his shift started. His eyebrows furrowed when he saw that he had received a message. 

>> [From Ushijima]: Hey Akaashi. Just wanted to let you know Tendou is back in town.

_ Ah _ . Classic Ushijima. Their little rendezvous had started only a couple months ago, but Akaashi knew it wouldn’t last long. He was ok with that though, he just wanted to see how it would be with someone who was even more mellow than himself. Ushijima had a complicated on and off thing with someone named Tendou, and whenever Akaashi was told that Tendou was in town he knew he wouldn’t be seeing Ushijima for at least a few days. That was fine though, just meant one less person to keep up with.

>> [To Ushijima]: That’s too bad, I was hoping to see you. Soon though :)

Akaashi bounced his knee to the song blasting through his earphones, probably too loud to be safe, but that was fine. The music stopped at the tone ringing through his phone, waiting for him to pick up the other line. He’s been having a bad habit -- well, not so much a bad habit, because this wasn’t a  _ bad  _ thing. But he’s caught himself texting Kuroo throughout the day and having small conversations with him over the phone every once in a while. Kuroo even stopped by his apartment yesterday with ice cream. Akaashi wasn’t a fan of mint chocolate chip but Kuroo was enjoying himself so much that he didn’t have the heart to tell him that, so he sucked it up and ate it with him.

“Hey, what’s up?”

Akaashi chippered up at the sound of his deep voice on the other line. 

“Hi, just wanted to see what you were up to before I start my shift,” Akaashi smiled, scratching at a sticker that’s adorned the break room’s table ever since he started working there. 

“I’m about to start rehearsal right now, but Kei is late  _ as always _ ,” a groan not belonging to Kuroo was heard on the other line, and Akaashi could only assume it was their other bandmate. “What time do you get off?”

“Ah, he’s always late huh,” Akaashi laughed lightly. “I close tonight, so I’m off at eight, but I start in like,” he pulled his phone away from his ear to look at the time. “Ten minutes.”

“Mmm, well it’s Wednesday so it won’t be super busy,” Akaashi nodded, but remembered he was on the phone so he hummed in response. “What have you done today?”

“I had my usual jog, showered, got some homework in, the usual. And I just got out of my session with Kiyoko-san.”

Ah, shouldn’t have said that.

“Oh, how was that?”

“You know,” he looked down at the bandages on his fingers. He was going to have to change those before he started. “Heavy as always.”

“Too much?” Kuroo questioned.

Ever since Akaashi went to go apologize the two had set boundaries that would help them both stay within their safe, comfortable zones, in a respectful yet progressive manner. When Kuroo asked that, Akaashi knew what he was really asking. 

_ Is this too much? Am I prying into things you don’t want to talk about yet? _

“Yeah,” Akaashi sighed.

“Ok, that’s fine. I just hope it doesn’t have you too down. I’ll let you go now Akaashi, Kei just got here. Stay safe.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to you soon.”

Akaashi hung up and bit his lip in contemplation as his list of recent calls popped up on his phone. He hadn’t talked to Bokuto since last night when he left his house, and he wasn’t sure if he could handle the tension between them, he could feel it even though they weren’t together. His eyes bore into his name, the last time he had called him was when he got to the hotel with Terushima. Akaashi had lied and told him he had gotten home, and the conversation didn’t stray further from that. Without thinking, he pressed on his name and pursed his lips in regret as the line rang.

“Akaashi!” His voice instantly soothed Akaashi’s nerves, and he could feel his shoulder’s relax into their usual state. Maybe he had over thought it. But this wasn’t something that he could overlook either. 

“Hi Bokuto-san,” he smiled. Bokuto sounded out of breath, and Akaashi could hear the familiar sound of sneakers squeaking. “I hope I didn’t interrupt your practice.”

“No worries, there’s always time for you.”

Akaashi stayed silent for a moment. “I am interrupting aren’t I?”

“What? No, no! I’m on a break right now actually, lucky you, caught me just in time,” the smile in his voice was evident even through the line. 

“I just wanted to see if we could meet up later. I know it’s a weekday, but I was hoping you could come by my apartment after I’m done with my shift. W--well only if you’re up for it.”

“Of course! I don’t have practice or workouts tomorrow, coach is giving us a four day weekend.”

“I’m glad, I’m sure you need the rest Bokuto-san,” Akaashi felt that it was already half past two, the time he needed to clock in and he stood from his seat to the computer where he would sign in. 

“Did you need me to pick you up?”

“What? You have a car?” He put his employee number in and clocked in.

“Uh, yeah.”

“ _ Oh _ , look at Mr. Pro here, I bet it’s a big truck  _ huh _ ?” Akaashi cooed, eliciting a giggle from himself at his own joke. Akaashi had the money to buy his own car, in cash as well -- and a nice one at that. Terushima has sent him money every week for the past two years, and he paid for his rent  _ and  _ bills, so it wasn’t like Akaashi was able to spend it on anything else really. Having a sugar daddy really did have its benefits. However, a car wasn’t something he  _ needed _ , besides, he liked the mundane action of riding the train with everyone else. 

“Shut up,” Bokuto chuckled. It was quiet, not his usual laugh, and it sent shivers up Akaashi’s spine at the idea of him blushing and looking down at the floor whenever he got flustered -- which wasn’t often. 

“You can pick me up if you’d like, but I do live only a couple blocks down from where I work.”

“That’s fine, send me the address, yeah? Are you down for a couple drinks tonight? Or do you have class tomorrow?”

Akaashi pursed his lips in thought. He wanted to talk about what happened between them the night before and maybe open up a bit more about himself -- they were friends after all. Maybe drinks wouldn’t be so bad, they’d loosen him up a bit more and maybe that was necessary.

“Yeah! I don’t have class tomorrow, and I have a couple of bottles at home I think you’d like.” The idea of seeing Bokuto become even more clumsy and loud from the alcohol made Akaashi smile. He caught himself pulling at the string of his apron and snapped himself back into reality. He needed to change his bandages.

“Ok, I’ll see you later then, Keiji. Send me the address!”

Bokuto hung up before Akaashi got to react to that, and the blush in Akaashi’s neck and cheeks couldn’t be helped. He thought he would be bothered by him using his given name, but for some reason, when Bokuto said it, it didn’t feel so wrong. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was HEAVY AS HELL but im so so happy to finally have reached a point in the story where you guys are getting more insight on Akaashi's life!! next chapter is a wild one y'all so strap up LMAOOO also thank you for 2k hits wtf ily all


	14. Chateau

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for chapter: Chateau - Djo

“Looks like prince charming is here to sweep you away Keiji.” 

Akaashi cocked an eyebrow in question at Koushi and looked outside the large glass windows of the café. He was met with a _large_ black truck and he snorted at the sight. He just _knew_ Bokuto would have a car like that. Bokuto was leaning on the door of the driver’s side, clad in black sweatpants and a matching hoodie. His hair was down today, and Akaashi couldn’t help the knot forming in his stomach at seeing the strands of hair in his face as Bokuto scrolled through his phone, completely unaware he was being ogled. 

“How fun,” Akaashi deadpanned, wiping down the last table. 

“Good luck getting up there,” Koushi snorted, counting the bills inside the cash register.

“You know,” Akaashi straightened himself and leaned on the table he had just finished wiping down.” I’m _quite_ good at getting on top of things Koushi. It’s my special talent, really, or so I’ve been told.”

“You dirty boy Keiji!” Oikawa’s voice was heard in the distance, as he had been mopping the floors towards the backroom. Akaashi and Suga giggled in unison, Suga dropping a few bills as his shoulders shook out of control. Akaashi placed the last of the chairs onto the table, with the legs up, and approached the cash register where Suga was, untying his apron.

“Is it ok if I head out? I don’t want to keep him waiting,” he gestured towards Bokuto, who now had his phone pressed against his ear and was clearly having a conversation. Akaashi could tell he was having a battle with his nervousness, his right foot was tapping the cement at an inhumane speed and his gestures as he spoke on the phone were muted and not so drastic as they usually were quite the opposite. 

“That’s fine. But you’re going to tell me how it goes first thing in the morning.”

“It’s literally _not_ like that.” Akaashi countered, waving his apron in the air to hide the way his ears were tinting pink. 

“Except,” Suga crossed his arms, a sassy pout on his lips. “It is.”

“You really think I could score someone like _him?_ ” Akaashi scoffed, making his way into the break room but propping the door open as to still allow Suga to hear him. 

“Dude, you’re literally hot shit,” it was Oikawa’s voice this time who was butting into the conversation. Not that Akaashi minded. 

“I think you guys overestimate my abilities. Besides, he’s my _friend_ and I don’t --”

“Sleep with your friends,” Suga and Oikawa retorted in unison, the monotony in their voices sending shivers down Akaashi’s spine at how robotic they sounded. Creepy. 

“You guys are annoying, I’m leaving,” Akaashi sighed, grabbing his jacket out of his locker and shrugging it on, folding his apron and stuffing it into his pocket. He hummed in satisfaction when he spotted a half empty box of cigarettes in his locker and cocked his head towards Suga who was too busy still counting the money to notice, and quickly shoving them into his other coat pocket. 

“Oi, take that bag with you. It’s a few sweets for you two,” Oikawa cocked his chin towards the plastic bag from their café that was beside the glass case where cakes and pastries usually were displayed. Akaashi formed his lips into a sweet pout and gave the best puppy dog eyes he could muster. “Aw you _actually_ did something _nice_ Tooru,” he whined, snatching the bag from the counter.

“Oh. You’re going to be like that? I can take them back,” he retorted, glaring at Akaashi who kept their eyes locked on each others in a contest of intimidation. Oikawa was the first to break and his lips twitched into a gleaming smile, making the two laugh lightly. “Mean Keiji-kun! Your face is so scary when you pull that expression! But really,” his face softened. “Go have fun,” he smiled lightly, eyes crinkling in on each other.

“I will,” Akaashi returned the soft expression and bowed. “Bye guys, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye-bye ‘Kaashi!”

“Bye Keiji!”

“Come lock the door behind me!” Akaashi beckoned, pushing past the glass doors into the cold city. The temperatures had been steadily declining the past few days, and part of Akaashi was excited that his favorite time of year was coming already. He loved bundling up in his apartment by the heater with a cup of tea and layering in long sleeves and jackets. It was his comfort season. Even if the weather itself made him gloomy to match the skies. Besides, he hated the summer. The summer was filled with bad memories. 

Bokuto smiled at Akaashi when they met eyes and Akaashi watched with curiosity as Bokuto said his goodbyes with the person on the other line. 

“I’ll talk to you later, yeah -- _what_? No, I'm just seeing a friend. Bye Tetsuro.”

_Oh._

Akaashi wondered what Kuroo would think of all this. Surely, there was really nothing to explain per se, because Bokuto and Akaashi were only _friends_ \-- and it didn’t necessarily _concern_ Kuroo, but Akaashi was trying to rid himself of that negative mindset. He knew for sure Kuroo wouldn’t like it, and he wanted _so_ badly to tell himself that it shouldn't matter to him because the things he did in his personal life wasn’t Kuroo’s business, but he wanted to not be so mean. Akaashi simply forgot sometimes that they were friends, and whenever Kuroo or Bokuto spoke of each other when Akaashi was with them, it was like a slap in the face that two completely different sides of his life were clashing so directly. It wasn’t something he had ever experienced and he wasn’t so sure how he felt about it, but he knew one thing -- it did _not_ feel good. 

Thinking about what were to happen once this news got to Kuroo was something that made his stomach twist into a knot -- it made him nervous, because Akaashi knew he would get defensive. He would build walls meters high that he had never had to do before, because he would have to defend a part of his life that was all _his_ \-- it was untouched by all these nasty, ugly things he had done all these years. Akaashi wanted things to stay the way they were right now, with Bokuto completely oblivious, but it wasn’t right. 

Akaashi knew that he needed to tell Bokuto -- not out of pity or regret, but because he deserved to see Akaashi for who he _is_ and not who he _was_. He had changed into a completely different person, and Bokuto deserved to know this new man that Akaashi had become. 

Akaashi wanted to be _vulnerable_ . For once in his life, he _actually_ wanted to be vulnerable, and he wasn’t so sure he cared about the consequences, because it was Bokuto. Though, he wasn’t so sure why he felt that way. This was all so foreign to him, and these new feelings scared him because he had never _had_ to do anything like this. Suga only knew because they went to high school together -- they were neighbors. He was bound to hear the screaming. 

“Hi Bokuto-san, thank you for picking me up,” Akaashi bowed after he came to a stop a few feet in front of Bokuto who was trying to shove his phone into his sweats. Bokuto grinned at the younger, “No problem ‘Kaashi, how was work?”

“It was alright,” Akaashi shrugged, then suddenly remembered the sweets in his hands. “It wasn’t so busy because it’s Wednesday. But Oikawa,” he gestured towards the café where his two friends were still inside tidying up for closing. “Gave us some sweets for tonight! Let’s go?”

“Oh, ok, yeah!” 

Akaashi made his way to the other side of the door, already feeling a pit of embarrassment knowing he was going to have to use all his force to get up there. Begrudgingly, he pulled open the passenger door and rolled his eyes when he met eyes with Bokuto who was already seated in the driver's seat with a cocky smirk perched on his lips.

“Maybe I should have brought a stool for you,” he pouted teasingly, making Akaashi breathe out a laugh.

“Oh shut it,” Akaashi groaned. “You know that I’m not that much shorter than you,” he struggled to climb in, but when he did he smirked at Bokuto. He took a glance at the backseat, “Are you sure there isn’t already a stool in here for yourself? Or does your ego boost you enough?” 

Bokuto stared at Akaashi dumbfounded for a few seconds, then burst into a fit of laughter, holding his sides with a grin so large on his face it forced a chuckle out of Akaashi as well.

“Your humor hasn’t changed at all,” Bokuto breathed, giving Akaashi’s knee a clap of his hand before revving the engine of his truck alive. The touch had made Akaashi jump -- not out of fear, but rather surprise. It was rare they physically touched each other, they just never had that type of friendship when they were in high school. That thought pulled Akaashi back to Bokuto’s apartment yesterday. What would have happened if Terushima hadn’t called him? Akaashi could still feel Bokuto’s racing heartbeat under his fingertips, when they had made their way to his neck. He couldn’t help but stretch his fingers out and look down at them. They were still wrapped in bandages, but not the same ones Kiyoko had used. It had taken a while for the bleeding to stop and they were basically drenched in blood by the time Akaashi was able to change them. It had been a long time since he’s done that. 

“Are your fingers ok?”

“Huh?” Akaashi gasped, looking over at Bokuto who quite obviously had worry written all over his face. He was looking down at Akaashi’s fingers with his eyebrows pulled in questioning. “Oh, they are now.”

Did he want to say this? Was it still too early?

“I have pretty bad anxiety about some stuff, so when I get anxious I pick at my fingers a lot. I tore them open earlier today, but they don’t hurt or anything,” Akaashi shot Bokuto a gentle smile, hoping to ease his worry in any way he could.

“You worry too much, it makes _me_ worry,” Bokuto’s voice was gentle. Genuine. The way hot chocolate is gentle, or when light filters through blinds in the morning. It was warm and everything nice. Akaashi wanted to melt into it. 

“No need for that. I’m ok,” his lips twitched into a smile. “Oh! You can pull into this street right here, the parking is in the back of the building.”

Bokuto pulled into a space and turned the engine off, the pair wordlessly gathering their things and exiting the vehicle. Akaashi led Bokuto to the front of the complex and pressed the code into the keys to enter the lobby. 

“You know,” Akaashi began, stepping into the elevator and pressing the button to his floor. “I didn’t even think about how you’re going to get home if you drink Bokuto-san.”

“Oh, no worries, Kuroo lives just down the street, so I can walk to his place if I get _real_ trashed.”

Akaashi let out a giggle at that, the idea of Bokuto getting ‘trashed’ sounded funny coming out his mouth. It still felt so foreign to Akaashi to talk about these adult things with Bokuto, as they never did when they were younger, because, well -- they were too young to be doing any of these things. 

“You think I would let you walk even just those two blocks all messed up? No way,” Akaashi snorted, stepping off the elevator. “If you _can’t_ hold your liquor for some reason, then you can stay in the extra room. Or I can send a friend of mine to take you home.”

“Aw you _care_ ,” Bokuto teased, Akaashi grimacing when he playfully puckered his lips at the younger as he neared his front door. The moment was cut short at the sight of a sticky note on Akaashi’s front door.

_Take pictures in what I left for you on your bed. - T_

“Oh god,” Akaashi murmured, blushing and snatching the note off the door, taking a glance at Bokuto who was _just_ as red as Akaashi and holding back a laugh. He seemingly couldn’t hold it in and burst out into a huge fit of laughter as Akaashi tried to unlock his apartment, struggling as he could feel embarrassment clouding his entire body. 

“Oh my _god_ , ah, you’re wild now man,” Bokuto giggled, wiping a stray tear from his eye and bursting into _another_ fit of low chuckles.

“ _Stop!_ Oh jesus, I’m so embarrassed. I can’t believe he left it _outside_ my damn door. I bet my neighbor saw!” Akaashi smacked his own forehead, pushing his door open with the other.

“Can I --”

“No!” Akaashi exclaimed, feeling his neck heat up because he _knew_ what it was and he _knew_ Bokuto just wanted to see it out of curiosity. But Akaashi would never recover at the idea of Bokuto seeing _that_.

“Let’s just pretend that didn’t happen.”

“So you’re not going to send him the pictures he _so desperately_ w --”

“ _Bokuto_!” The taller burst into another fit of laughter, clutching at his sides and even threw his head back, adam's apple bobbing wildly. Meanwhile, Akaashi’s entire body was burning with embarrassment, so much so that he could even feel his chest burning red and sweat prickling his hairline.

He was gonna have to give Terushima a mouth full after _this_. And not the good kind. 

Eventually, Bokuto’s laughter died down and so did Akaashi’s blush. The two set their things down and Akaashi went to get into some lounging clothes -- a simple oversized tee and jogger shorts that were _almost_ too short but not quite. He had spotted the lingerie on his bed and groaned, putting it away with the rest with pink cheeks. It was times like these where he grew grateful that he had an apartment and not a studio, if not, he _definitely_ would have been a hundred times more embarrassed than he had been earlier. 

When he walked back into the kitchen, and before Bokuto had noticed Akaashi, the younger saw him admiring a picture Akaashi had on his wall of himself and his parents, and the collage besides that one full of polaroid's with his friends and whatnot. The expression was one that Akaashi couldn’t quite decipher, but it brought a wave of calmness over him. Watching Bokuto admire the miniscule décor he had made some sort of nostalgia bubble up in the pit of his stomach, and he was suddenly taken back to high school. To when they were still teenagers, and they had no real problems, Bokuto admiring all the books Akaashi had in his room. It was a cute parallel.

“Are you hungry Bokuto-san?” Akaashi snapped him out of his thoughts, making him jump.

“I had dinner Akaashi-san! But I’m down for those sweets your friend gave us!”

Akaashi smiled softly and nodded, heading into the kitchen to take out some plates and shot glasses for their drinks before pursing his lips in thought. 

“Do you prefer straight liquor or do you like it as a mixed drink? I think I have some mix…”

“If we have it straight I don’t think we’ll last that long,” Bokuto giggled, perching himself on the counter with the best view of Akaashi. He hummed in response and began making them some mixed drinks, too lazy to blend them, he simply poured it over some ice and gave Bokuto his glass. The smell of the tasty expensive tequila Terushima brought him from the states filled the room with a scent that Akaashi had always associated with the blond, and it made his core hot. Akaashi plated their treats; cheesecake and some brownie bites. 

The two ended up on Akaashi’s couch about two hours later, both with warm chests to match their warm cheeks, dessert all but scarfed down, and wrapped in Akaashi’s pretty knitted blankets. Music was playing in the speaker Akaashi kept in his kitchen and the two had long forgotten their game of dominoes about five games in.

“Do you remember our last volleyball game together?”

Akaashi smiled at the memory and shuffled so he was laying on his back, head towards Bokuto with his legs hanging over the edge of his sofa. 

“How could I not?” It was the night before it all went to shit. It was a memory Akaashi clung onto for years, because it was the last moment he experienced unadulterated happiness, the same way a child did. But he couldn’t tell Bokuto that. 

“The strawberry cake that day hit _different_.” Akaashi hummed in response, thinking back to when he and Bokuto did their usual little celebration when they would win games. It was Bokuto’s treat that game -- they took turns in buying -- and they ended up getting home later than usual that night, because they had decided to stop at the park by Akaashi’s house, as Bokuto always took Akaashi home on his bike. His parents weren’t home that night to scold him about getting home at almost midnight, but someone else was. 

But Akaashi didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to taint the happy memory with such a negative attachment -- it wasn’t Bokuto’s fault. It wasn’t Akaashi’s fault either. 

Just like Kiyoko said.

“You’ve always had a thing for sweets, that’s the one thing that hasn’t changed about you,” Bokuto murmured, his voice had been getting raspier as the night progressed, probably from being so tired and the alcohol, Akaashi assumed. Part of him wanted to tend to Bokuto and set up the spare room for him, but he wanted to be with him for longer. He was enjoying himself. 

He chuckled nervously at the comment, looking up as best he could from his awkward position on the couch, “What do you mean Bokuto-san?”

“Well,” Bokuto pursed his lips, making Akaashi furrow his eyebrows in concern. He sat up and tucked his legs underneath himself and perched himself by Bokuto, almost too close, their arms were rubbing against one another and it made chills go up Akaashi’s arms. 

_So warm_.

“You’re not the same anymore Keiji.”

The air in Akaashi’s lungs seemed to have been taken in one foul swoop as he looked at Bokuto with a fearful gaze, staying quiet to see if he would say more. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear more or keep it at that. But who was _he_ to silence _Bokuto’s_ feelings?

“Did -- did something happen? Is that why you left?” Bokuto was looking back at him now and Akaashi couldn’t help but feel like a deer caught in headlights. Was now the moment? Is this how people are supposed to ‘bare their souls to each other?’ Or whatever Kiyoko and Suga say all the time. Akaashi was afraid, but he wasn’t afraid of Bokuto knowing -- if anything, he _wanted_ him to know. He had been hoping for an opening all night to let Bokuto in, and here Bokuto was, pleading him once again to go ten steps forward. 

Akaashi wanted this. He wanted to be ten steps closer to Bokuto.

“Yes,” Akaashi sighed, breaking his gaze from Bokuto. He reached down to the coffee table in front of him, grabbing the bottle they’d been taking shots of and taking a large swig from it before falling back into the couch, leaning slightly into the older man’s hard bicep. “It’s bad Bokuto-san.” His voice was small. 

“I -- I’m sorry,” Bokuto stuttered out, “You probably don’t even want to talk about it and I don’t want to make you say something you don’t feel comfortable --”

“No,” Akaashi grabbed onto the sleeve of Bokuto’s tee, avoiding his gaze. “I want to tell you,” he looked up and saw Bokuto’s gaze go from that of an anxious one, to an inviting gaze -- all his attention was on Akaashi and he wanted the younger to know that -- and he felt welcomed. He became confident in what he was going to tell Bokuto, and now all he was afraid of was controlling his emotions. He kept his hand wrapped around Bokuto’s bicep, he needed to keep himself grounded and his scorching skin was the best for the job.

“Do you…” Akaashi gulped loudly, still feeling the sting of the drink he took a few moments ago. “Do you remember Hamamura Haruto?”

Bokuto tilted his head to the side in question, “The guy you were seeing back in high school?”

Akaashi nodded, fighting the _overwhelming_ urge to claw at his fingers -- well, not that he could anyway with the bandages wrapped around them. It had been a long, _long_ time since he had said _his_ name out loud -- _years_. It made vile rise up his throat and his body prickle with goosebumps in the worst way possible. But he wanted to push through these ugly feelings; for Bokuto. He didn’t know why, or how, or when, but he knew that Bokuto wanted what Akaashi did. And Akaashi wanted to give him that. 

“We had been having problems for a while, because I started noticing a bunch of red flags and pointing them out as they came up -- he _hated_ it. He would tell me what to do all the time, try to limit the time I spent with my friends and family, and he would turn every argument onto me and make himself the victim. A--and one day, when my parents weren’t home he was waiting for me to get home and I got upset with him -- I don’t even remember why, but I know I told him I wanted to end things between us. I thought he had left and when I --” Akaashi paused and took a deep shaky breath, Bokuto had put his own hand over Akaashi’s slimmer one, squeezing it tightly; _I’m here_ , it said. “When I went to bed he came in through my window. He got in my face about h--how I _couldn’t_ leave him, said I was all he had, and just -- all these _crazy_ things. But when I told him to leave he… he started getting violent. Then it -- _he_ \-- he got on top of me and -- and -- he --”

Akaashi hadn’t noticed when the tears had started falling, or when Bokuto had started mirroring him, face contorted into one of pain and tears rolling off of his jaw. He could tell that Bokuto was holding back on touching Akaashi more than he already was, and Akaashi was thankful for that, because it probably would have been too much and overwhelmed him to the point of no return. Is this what it felt like to be cared about? To feel validated by someone who had no bad intentions? This is what it felt like to not be the only one carrying this weight -- the feeling similar to when he told Kuroo, but one hundred times better. Because Bokuto knew who Akaashi used to be, he knew that man, he knew everything but this. And now he understood it all, and the curtain between them they hadn’t spoken of had finally fallen and was swallowed by the ground, and light seemed to be peering into Akaashi’s eyes for the first time in a long time. Even if it hurt right now. 

“He raped me,” Akaashi finished, wiping at his face. “I couldn’t leave my house for weeks, I was this -- this _shell_. I couldn’t speak, or eat, be touched -- even by my own mom. Looking back I don’t even know how I survived that first month after --”

“Keiji…”

“It‘s all thanks to my mom that I’m alive,” Akaashi smiled softly, bringing a hand to Bokuto’s face and wiping gently at the tears resting on his cheekbones. “I moved to my grandma’s after and I started being homeschooled there for the rest of high school. It’s why I just fell off the face of the Earth. I couldn’t be in that town anymore. Too many memories, too many bad things, I couldn’t live in fear of the possibility of seeing him, I was going to go crazy if I had stayed there any longer.”

“A-and what happened? Did you report it or…?”

“I didn’t, not right away. I got the evidence that I needed, I went to the hospital as soon as it had happened, but I didn’t start the legal process until about a year ago, and, well, now I have a _real_ legal team -- one I couldn’t have without all the support I’m getting. I don’t have high hopes though, it -- it’s going to be hard, because even though I have the evidence I _need_ it still isn’t going to be enough when all he’ll get is a slap on the wrist.”

Akaashi could feel his stomach knotting violently, even more so than when talking about what _actually_ happened. To Akaashi, not getting legal justice would kill him -- it would be the last nail in the coffin and there would be no reason to do any of the things he had worked so hard for all these years. Imagining the pain of having the justice system basically say _‘what happened to you wasn’t_ **_that_ ** _bad, so no one has to pay for what happened -- just you.’_ The thought made his heart sink. It would be a slap to the face the day it came, because the longer this dragged out, the lower Akaashi’s hopes got, and the more realistic he became. Why would _he_ be the exception? The women in Tokyo alone rarely got justice, now, him as a man? It’s why he had come to terms with him only receiving a gentle slap to the wrist. But he still hoped for more. He needed to know that he would get punished for what he did, and not only Akaashi will have to suffer the consequences of what he did that night. 

“If things go south I can --”

“No Bokuto-san,” Akaashi chuckled lightly, running his finger gently over the kanji tattooed onto his forearm. Touching someone had never kept Akaashi from going over the edge when talking about what happened. Not even Suga or his mom had that ability. It made him smile gently to himself. “No one else should be getting in trouble over what he did. Just him.”

“You’re right, but that doesn’t make me wanna smash his skull in any less,” Bokuto huffed, bringing his glass to his lips. “Thank you for telling me that ‘Kaashi,” his face softened, all his rough features melting away, just like the night in his apartment. “I’m happy you got over the roughest part, and if there’s anything I can do to help you, I’m here. I’ll always be here, I’m not going anywhere.”

Akaashi smiled softly, retracting his hands from Bokuto’s arm and bringing them back into his lap. He could physically feel himself getting closer to his goal -- who he wanted to be, how he wanted to think. Thinking back on it, he hadn’t ever felt this way. Seeing Bokuto at Kuroo’s apartment all those days ago had snapped him in half, and this time, he was actually picking the pieces back up -- for the first time _ever_ he _wanted_ to. His feelings were clearly a big puzzle he hasn’t been able to solve for all these years, and at times he gets overwhelmed thinking about how he’d spent all these years allowing himself to drown in his sadness, but now he’s starting to see the bigger picture. 

“Not a lot of people know,” he rubbed his arm lightly, trying to rid himself of the heat of Bokuto’s body lingering on the palm of his hand, it was unknowingly making his chest swell in a weird way he’s never felt. “But I feel comfortable with you knowing,” Akaashi shot Bokuto a warm smile, and the older returned it without hesitation. “I’d appreciate it if it stayed between us though.”

“Of course,” his smile only grew warmer and Akaashi had to look away before he got flustered. He could begin to feel the alcohol heating his whole body and he pushed the blankets off of himself, Bokuto chuckling lightly besides him as he struggled to untangle himself. After he _finally_ freed himself he stood from his spot on the couch, no longer satisfied with the type of drink they had been having because he wanted something sweet. He found a bottle of red wine in his cupboards and looked over at Bokuto with a raised eyebrow, who looked at him as if he had proposed the most devious scheme known to _man_. 

“It’s like you want me to get hammered,” Bokuto sighed, nodding in defeat -- Akaashi missed the fond smile he broke into when the younger let out a mischievous giggle. He brought back the bottle and two glasses, handing one to Bokuto and pouring until he was whisper yelling, ‘ _oh my god stop!’_

“My mom really likes this kind,” Bokuto reminisced, looking at the glass after taking a sip, making some smacking noises which irked Akaashi only in the slightest. “Yeah? I miss her,” Akaashi sighed, sinking back into his spot besides Bokuto.

“I told her we started talking again. She said she missed you too.”

Akaashi couldn’t help but feel warm at the comment nor could he help the memories flooding his brain of basically growing up with the Bokuto family. They were all so genuine, so open with each other. It was something Akaashi was able to have with only them, because though he loved his own family, they were different from Bokuto’s, in a way he wished they could have been similar. Growing up wasn’t so bad because they took him in. Not that his mom and dad were bad parents, but Akaashi resembled them in terms of their seriousness, so being around them wasn’t always the most fun. Plus, after the whole situation with his dad, it was hard to have fondness for him. 

“I miss my mom,” Akaashi whispered, bringing his blanket up to his nose, it smelled of the laundry detergent his mom used when he used to live with them. He can’t seem to help himself from buying the things she did, it gives him a taste of the good things of back home. 

“How long has it been since you’ve gone back?” Bokuto had propped his elbow against the back of the couch and his chin in his hand, his golden eyes weren’t so golden in Akaashi’s dimly lit apartment, but they instead resembled that of a cup of coffee with slightly too much creamer. 

“I haven’t gone back since I left,” Akaashi sighed, stretching his legs out. “I told my parents I would never go back, but they do come and stay with me sometimes, but it’s been a while.”

“Would you ever feel comfortable going back?”

Akaashi hesitated. He wasn’t sure it would be a good idea. Stepping into that house again, _into that room_ \-- it made his head fuzzy with anxiety just thinking about it, and he knew going back would only be ten times worse. Of course he’s thought about it, but he’s never had a reason to go back. Not that his parents aren’t reason enough, but the idea of possibly reverting back to the way he felt the night it happened and enduring the hell that last month he was there _again_ , it was overwhelming. He caught himself fiddling with the edges of his bandaids and tore his hands away from them when he saw Bokuto eyeing his movements. 

“Maybe one day.”

“What if we went together?”

The comment caught Akaashi off guard, and he couldn’t help but show the surprise in his face at those words. The idea of having Bokuto there felt grounding, like there wasn’t the possibility of getting hurt or getting consumed by the bad feelings. It would be like how things used to be.

“Well, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was one of my FAVORITE chapters -- but i also say that after every chapter LMAOOO i hope you guys enjoyed :) i'll try to update at least once a week but the new semester started for me a couple weeks ago and college is kicking my ass y'all


	15. Something Has Changed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: smut galore 
> 
> \---
> 
> song for chapter: Something Has Changed - Oscar Lang

Today, Akaashi was in a particularly bad mood, and he couldn’t stop himself from being a brat while out at dinner with Terushima. He wasn’t so sure as to why -- but it was probably partly because he could see the blond basically eye fucking the waiter serving them, it made his blood boil in a way he had never felt before. His feelings have been getting more and more intense since he’s tried to not be so cold, and this was one of the downsides. But he couldn’t help himself. 

“What’s wrong? You’ve barely touched your food.” Terushima cocked his brow as he cut into his piece of _expensive_ steak, Akaashi’s plate matching his. He saw the way the blond’s attention cracked from being fully on the younger onto the waiter with the gray colored hair and black tips -- what the fuck was that even about? Who even dyes their hair that way? 

“I don’t know, maybe if you actually were listening to what I had been telling you I wouldn’t be so damn pissy,” Akaashi muttered, taking a few fat gulps of his wine -- it didn’t burn his throat the same way the one he had at home did and it made his chest flush in a good way. He didn’t usually get like this, so he didn’t understand why he suddenly felt so compelled to do so right now. It _was_ partly because Akaashi had brought up Bokuto and them going back to their hometown, Terushima’s mind _obviously_ in a completely different place. Terushima knew a lot about Akaashi, a lot more than most of his fuck buddies, so it annoyed the younger when the things he said about his private life weren’t acknowledged, because it was rare he talked about things like this. But it was also partly because he wanted Terushima’s undivided attention, because he was simply just so used to being treated well by him. 

“Of course I was listening,” Terushima shot back. Akaashi watched as he elegantly cut his desired piece of meat and placed it in his mouth. Usually his crisp collar and coat and styled hair would drive the younger crazy, seeing him all put together as he always was, smelling of expensive cologne and the breath mints he carried in his pocket and the lingering scent of Akaashi. But right now it only made him chew violently on the insides of his cheeks when his eyes flickered back to the man tending to the section of the restaurant they were in. 

_Akaashi wanted to be looked at like that right now_. 

Akaashi set his glass down a bit more roughly than he meant to, but to be fair, his coordination wasn’t the best right now with all the sweet wine he had been drinking. “Ok, so what did I say?”

“About going back home,” Terushima rolled his eyes, and if it were any other time Akaashi knew he would have taken it sarcastically, _because it was_ , but it just made him huff out a breath in annoyance. The boy Terushima had been eyeing the past hour was pretty and his voice was soft like Akaashi’s, mannerisms obviously overly polite to score good tips.

“I want to go home,” he leaned back into the wooden chair, taking a cig out from the pocket of his slacks and lighting it. He inhaled and exhaled, not bothering to aim the smoke away from their food or Terushima.

“Akaashi.”

“Sir, I’m sorry, but this is a non-smoking area,” it was the man that had been serving them. Akaashi would have snickered at him, had it not been for Terushima standing, coat already in his hands.

“We were just leaving, sorry about that.” Akaashi didn’t miss the way that he put one too many bills on the table before bowing to the waiter and following Akaashi who stood abruptly from the table with his coat in hand, the other holding his cigarette to his mouth. He continued taking drags, even while they were in the elevator and silence filled the room, the sound of the elevator going down the only thing audible. Terushima didn’t pester him about his tantrum all the way to the car -- Akaashi was thankful that today the blond had brought his pretty yellow sports car rather than have Daichi drive them, he didn’t feel like having Suga’s soon-to-be-boyfriend see him being a big ass brat. 

As Terushima drove, he found himself being dragged to the overly analytical place that was his mind. He’s noticed he’s been overthinking things a lot more lately than before and it was driving him crazy. He couldn’t stop thinking about his session with Kiyoko, his dad, his mom, Bokuto, going back home, the case. It was overwhelming, and he had found himself being so anxious and tense lately that his jaw had started locking up again -- it had been a long time since that’s happened and it only fueled his anger _even more_ . Akaashi hated getting so stuck in his head, because it always seemed that when he was there he _stayed_ there for so long that the entire day would pass in the blink of an eye. 

But the thing that had been bothering him most was his dad. If he and Bokuto were to go visit their hometown the way they said they would that drunken night, Akaashi almost felt he had no choice in confronting his father. He had been thinking about how it would go, all the ways it could pan out, and how he would feel after each scenario. If his father invalidated how he felt about what he said, that would probably be the icing on top. Akaashi would probably never speak to him again, and knowing that he was willing to let the cold side of him leak into his familial problems made something in him ache.

Did that mean he was too far gone? Was there no way of feeling empathy, softness, or warmness if he was able to dismiss his father for the rest of his life and allow this side of himself that he designated for temporary pests in his life to affect the part of his life untouched by that ugliness? Or was he valid in the sense that his father had completely fucked him up and this was the appropriate way to react? What he said was so obviously the cause of why he was so distant and couldn’t speak his mind -- all the things he had done and allowed to be done to his body was because of that miniscule thing his father had said to him all those years ago. 

What would have happened if he hadn’t said that to him? The idea of not being the way that he was completely baffled him, it seemed so out of reach that he couldn’t even imagine being a different version of himself. Being warm, kind, and considerate almost felt silly -- like the possibility of being that version of himself was so far fetched it almost made him laugh.

Being so heartless seemed so normal to his father, so Akaashi just figured he could stay this way his entire life. 

But the sane part of Akaashi knew that he should know better. He knew this wasn’t the healthy way to think of his situation, but he couldn’t help it. Sometimes he cursed himself for choosing the major that he did, because he applied his personal academic knowledge onto his own life and saw all the things he knew he was doing wrong, yet couldn’t stop.

He was forced out of his thoughts when the passenger door was opened and he was met with Terushima’s hand, waiting for him to take it. Akaashi scoffed and threw his cigarette onto the ground at Terushima’s feet, unbuckling his belt and stepping out of Terushima’s car. 

“Are you going to come up?” Akaashi questioned, eyebrow arched and chin cocked high as he eyed Terushima. 

“Yes.”

“You think that just because you bought me dinner I’ll let you fuck me?”

“Yes.”

Akaashi shivered at the comment, simply pushing past the blond, but grabbed his wrist and led the two towards his apartment complex. Terushima had tried wrapping his arms around Akaashi from behind when they were in the elevator but the younger slapped his hands away and crossed his arms, blowing away at a loose curl that had fallen in front of his eyes. His hair was getting long again, he was going to have to go get a cut. He always hated going, he didn’t like his hair being touched -- or getting touched by strangers at all, really. 

“Do you want me to go? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want Akaashi.”

“No. I want to. I want you to stay the night too.” His words were curt and abrupt, but it was enough to make Terushima let out an audible breath of relief and relax his shoulders. 

“I didn’t mean to be an asshole tonight,” Akaashi muttered as the elevator dinged open and he was met with the pretty painting of a landscape that adorned the hallway in between his door and his neighbors. He fished his keys out of his coat pocket, and flicked through them until he found the one marked with red that signified it was the one for his front door. 

“You got jealous,” Terushima hummed behind Akaashi who pinched his nose in annoyance as he turned the knob to go inside. 

“I did,” he finally responded, shoes off and coat hanging off the hooks by where his keys were. 

“It was hot.”

That was it. That was what threw Akaashi over the edge and images of that stupid pretty boy from the restaurant that was way too expensive flashed behind his eyes. The way he flirtatiously touched Terushima’s hands when he gave him the menu, handed them their cutlery, gave them their food. Akaashi wanted to slap that smug little smirk that plastered onto his face whenever he successfully touched Terushima, then would look Akaashi’s way, as if saying: _did you see that? You hate it, don’t you? Is this making your skin crawl?_

“Oh yeah?” Akaashi snapped, feeling his face go red in annoyance. “You know what wasn’t?” He shouted. “You eye fucking the damn waiter the _entire_ time we were there when _I was right in front of you_.”

Suddenly Akaashi was pushed face forward into the wall of his living room, Terushima pressed flush against him. “Don’t raise your voice at me Akaashi.” His voice was hot, breathy, and touched places inside Akaashi that made his stomach knot in the most pleasant way. 

“Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?” He chuckled lightly, the hands forced behind his back not enough to deter him from the snarky comment. “Fuck me? That’s what I _want_ , you gonna give me what I want Terushima? Like always? _Huh_?” He seethed, letting out a laugh when Terushima pressed his back further into the wall, and the younger couldn’t help but push his ass out towards Terushima’s front.

“You damn brat,” Terushima sighed, letting go of Akaashi with a huff. Akaashi turned to meet gazes with Terushima’s pretty brown eyes, he was leaning against the back of Akaashi’s couch, chin in his hands. “You think it’s appropriate to act like that in public? When I’m out _treating_ you?”

Oh. 

Is this a real argument? 

Akaashi leaned back into the wall he had previously been pushed up against and crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn’t sure what to say next, because he didn’t know if what Terushima had said was part of the act or if he was actually upset. It wasn’t like Terushima to genuinely get angry, but then again, Akaashi was never one to get jealous as well. 

God, what was happening to him?

“I acted appropriately, don’t you think?” Akaashi challenged, eyes not lingering away from the blond’s. 

“This isn’t like you.”

“You don’t know me.”

Terushima pushed himself from the couch, taking a step towards Akaashi. His hand reached out, asking for permission, and when the younger didn’t make a move to reject his touch, he kept going. Fingers snaked up Akaashi’s throat and rested lightly over his jaw, his thumb going up, up, up, until he was pressing against his lips. Akaashi took the digit in his mouth, jaw going slack for just a second before he sucked, tongue lapping around it. 

“You’re pretty when you get jealous, you know that sweetheart?” 

Akaashi took Terushima’s finger out his mouth, desperate for more. “I know,” he said, before pressing their lips together. Akaashi was quick to push his tongue past Terushima’s lips, eliciting a groan from him. His hands were gripping Akaashi’s hips now, hard, the thought of his fingerprints bruising into his skin making the younger’s skin grow hotter and hotter the longer he thought of it. And suddenly he was being turned around and pushed towards his couch, Terushima’s lips and tongue hot on the skin of his neck, nipping and sucking on every inch of visible skin. 

The sensation was making him whine pathetically, too fed up with holding back any noises, because this is what he _wanted._ He wanted Terushima to have him like this, to take him back here instead of looking at that pretty boy with the weird dye job. Jealousy wasn’t something he felt a lot, especially in their relationship, but Akaashi knew Terushima only treated Akaashi this way. There was nobody else, just him. Because part of him knows that he holds a place in his heart, taking advantage of that knowledge was ugly, but he didn’t care. Because Terushima made him feel good and that was all that mattered.

Akaashi was shoved back onto the couch and he landed on it with a soft plop, eyes hungrily watching Terushima who loomed over him. His brown eyes, which were usually pretty and wide, were now hooded with lust -- he was looking at Akaashi as if he were a piece of meat and he _lavished_ in it. He could drown in the feeling if it were possible. Akaashi watched as Terushima loosened the tie around his neck, letting it hang loosely around his neck before completely taking it off and tossing it onto the floor, nails fingering at the buttons of his dress shirt. He looked _so_ good, Akaashi thought. Cock hard in his dress pants, making the fabric scrunch around his crotch, he was breathing heavy and it made his chest press flush against his shirt, showing off the pretty shape of his muscular torso.

Like that, with the fabric taut tight against his pecs, his body almost resembled Bokuto’s.

But not quite. 

To shove himself from _those_ dirty thoughts, he pulled his black turtleneck over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him. Terushima slotted their lips together again, and pushed Akaashi down onto the couch so he was on his back, knees pressed against his chest as they had nowhere else to go. But like this, with his thighs pressed together, the friction felt so heavily that he couldn’t help but let out a moan, tangling his fingers into Terushima’s hair. He tasted like the sweet wine they had been drinking, making Akaashi’s mouth water against his. 

“I’ll make you jealous more if it means you get like this.”

Akaashi pulled away and furrowed his brows at the older. “Don’t. I’ll bite your dick.”

“Worth the risk.”

“Oh shut it,” Akaashi pulled him closer to his face, so much so that their foreheads were pressed against each other and he could feel Terushima’s breath on his lips. “Fuck me already, you old man.”

Terushima chuckled against his lips -- Akaashi always joked about that, when in reality, the blond was only about ten years older than him, but it was funny nonetheless. 

He brought his lips to Akaashi’s nipple, tugging the bud with his teeth, hard enough to make Akaashi’s spine arch without permission, then lolled his tongue around it slowly, teasingly. Akaashi had his hands in his hair, making sure not to pull because Terushima didn’t like that. The sensation of his mouth on him made his body buzz with pleasure, and suddenly he was reminded of that time all those days ago when they were at the club together. 

That’s how Terushima made him feel all the time, anywhere. Funny.

Then, Akaashi remembered where he was -- and he was reminded of the other night, Bokuto on this exact spot of the couch, dizzy on the sweet drinks Akaashi made him, all snot nosed after they talked about what happened, and then an hour later blurting random facts about society and how everything was so fascinating. And suddenly, it felt dirty to be doing it here, it felt too pure of a place, and he didn’t want it touched by this. 

“Let’s go to my room,” Akaashi was able to stifle out his words through a whine, the feelings of Terushima’s mouth now too much to handle. He pushed the older man off him, grabbing him by the wrist and leading them into his bedroom. Terushima had gotten that mirror Akaashi had mentioned installed in his room, and he had been wanting to see how it would feel to see them while they did it -- not that they hadn’t before, but not like _this_. It was making Akaashi’s core hot, making the need for the other to be inside him even more drastic. 

He was pushed onto his mattress, the pretty satin sheets he used for Terushima only adorning his bed. Akaashi was immediately met with his own eyes when he looked up, lips red and swollen, hair a disheveled mess, and a dark bruise right below his nipple -- he didn’t like being all marked up, so he was going to have to give Terushima a mouthful about that later. But not right now. The lust he felt right now was almost unbearable. 

His hands began unbuttoning at his jeans when he realized Terushima was getting the lube and condom from his bedside table. They were halfway down his thighs when he mumbled, “If you don’t take off your damn pants off and put your fucking cock in me right now, I’m gonna die.”

“I would, but you were being a brat earlier.”

Akaashi released the fingers he had sucked into his own mouth, then brought them down to his entrance, prodding at the puckered skin, watching Terushima look at him. “Are you sure about that? Don’t I look so good right now though? Don’t you want to fuck me ‘till I can’t remember my own name? Hm?” He had been wearing the pretty lace panties he had left on his bed _that_ night. They were black, and the back had cutouts on his ass, as well as in the crotch area, so they could stay on. Akaashi wasn’t usually into this type of thing, but for Terushima -- anything. 

Suddenly, his hand was being torn from inside himself, and Akaashi gasped when he felt something wet press against him -- no, not Terushima’s cock, his _tongue_. 

“Oh _fuck_ ,” he couldn’t help but wrap his legs around his shoulders, desperate to pull him closer, deeper. Akaashi didn’t know what he found more arousing -- his face, all scrunched in pleasure in the prettiest of ways, or seeing Terushima on his knees, tongue going in and out of him from up above through the mirror. His gaze, though hooded, didn’t rip away from the sight it reflected back to him. He looked pretty all fucked out, getting ate out -- and as narcissistic as it sounded, he could look at himself like this forever. It was so erotic, so dirty. 

Terushima’s tongue pressed down, hard, and flat before dipping back in with ease -- Akaashi was always good at relaxing, so it wasn’t so hard, and it made a whine leave him, feeling his whole body burn and toes curl at the feeling. It wasn’t often he let people do this kind of thing to him, but when he did, _god was it good_ . Terushima’s tongue piercing was pressing against his sweet spot _just_ right, and Akaashi was gasping for air, one hand tangled in the sheets, the other pulling at the buds of his nipples

“You feel so good, _ah_ , doing so good,” his speech was slurred, but he didn’t care, felt too good to care. The hand not holding one of Akaashi’s legs up was brought to his cock, Terushima’s tongue and wrist now synced together, his index finger teasing at the slit the way he knew Akaashi liked and gave his balls a squeeze as they settled on pumping his shaft.

“O-ok, if you don’t stop I’m going to come,” he had grabbed and forced Terushima’s wrist to a stop and pulled him forward, knees now against his chest when their lips met in a lewd kiss, all tongues and clashing teeth. Heat was building in Akaashi’s core, and he could tell he was near. But he knew that wouldn’t stop Terushima, so he didn’t care.

“Do you need to be prepped?” Terushima had pulled away and stepped out of his navy dress pants and rolled a condom onto himself, a curious, arched brow looking Akaashi’s way. He shook his head no, “I saw someone earlier, so I don’t need it.” It was Suna.

“Mmm,” Terushima hummed, squirting lube onto the palm of his hand and stroking some onto himself, then pushing two fingers into Akaashi. “Dirty boy, of course you’d see someone. Was it before you saw me? That why you were all red when I picked you up?” He was lining himself up to Akaashi’s entrance now, the younger’s legs on his shoulders, ass lifted so it wasn’t even touching the bed. He could already taste the pressure and stretch he had been craving all night -- his mouth was practically watering. “Y--yeah, right before.”

“Yeah? Were they as good as me?” He was bottomed out now, his right hand gripping Akaashi’s throat lightly, making him see stars. “N--no, nobody is as good as you, Terushima-san.” A lie. But he felt so good right now that it almost didn’t feel like one. “That’s right sweetheart, you’re taking it so well. Do you see yourself? Do you see how good you look?” They met eyes in the mirror above them, and at that Akaashi let out a pathetic whine, because Terushima had begun rutting his hips forward, slowly and teasingly, and the pressure was building up so, so fast. Akaashi wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay like this. 

He kept his eyes on himself up above almost the whole time, part of him ashamed from that stupid scene he had pulled earlier, and the other part of him getting more and more turned on when he saw himself. Mouth slack, eyes hooded, and cock red at the tip, begging to be touched. But he wanted to be good and let Terushima have his way, rather than be a brat again. He came twice by the time that Terushima had finished, about a half hour later. His panties had been ripped, but he was too fucked over to give it a second thought by the time Terushima came on his face. Sweet and salty -- one of the biggest things Akaashi liked about him. He ate well and took care of himself so nicely that he tasted to match. 

And it always ended this way. They showered -- separately -- then Akaashi changed the sheets and waited for Terushima to come to bed, as he always took deathly long showers. Akaashi always said he was afraid he’d cook himself to death. When Terushima finally came into the room, only clad in his burgundy boxer briefs, Akaashi was on his phone, glasses perched on his nose, and in nothing but a huge t-shirt that pooled to his thighs, briefs, and some graphic socks that had funky patterns on them. 

Terushima laid beside him under the covers and let out a huff of air, letting Akaashi know he wouldn’t take long to sleep. He was reading some article that Bokuto had sent him earlier that he had included in a paper he had to write, and it was interesting to say the least. It was ten minutes later when Akaashi _thought_ Terushima had fallen asleep, and just as he was about to leave to go sleep in the guest room, his wrist was grabbed, making him flinch. 

“What?” Akaashi asked, brows furrowed -- half in annoyance and half in worry. 

“Remember when we first met?”

That was the last thing Akaashi had expected, and so he looked at Terushima with confusion in his eyes. What was this about? Why was he thinking about that right now? However, Akaashi couldn't help but reminisce back to that time, almost three years ago now. He had just turned twenty-one, it was when he was finally able to go into public without Suga and not having horrible panic attacks that lasted what felt like hours. They had met at the café, Terushima had been coming in for days in a row, and had been tipping Akaashi _way_ too much.

“What about it?” He pulled his hand away from Terushima’s grasp, now uncomfortable with it, as it began to feel like too much.

Terushima was looking up at the ceiling, and Akaashi could tell he was looking at him through the mirror, so he didn’t bother looking up. He had a sort of reminiscent look on his face, one where you could tell _exactly_ what he was thinking. 

“You used to be so afraid I would use my money and power to one up you,” Terushima chuckled. “You never said it, but I knew it. You wouldn’t kiss me for the entire first month we started sleeping together, because it was ‘too intimate,’ and then you confessed it had been years since you’d kissed someone. So when we finally did, you panicked and told me about what happened to you in high school, and freaked out even more at the idea of someone knowing that wasn’t you or your friend.”

“Yeah,” Akaashi sighed. It was hard thinking back to that time, he had never imagined being in the mental state or position he was in right now. It almost seemed absurd how he was able to pull himself out of such a dark hole. 

“You’ve come a long way Akaashi. I can tell something happened and you’re starting to change, and I know you’re overwhelmed with all the new things you’re feeling. What happened today was normal, and I need you to understand that. This isn’t you going ‘one-hundred steps back,’ like I know you’re thinking; you’re progressing. I want to see you happy, and you’re finally so close to your goal, even _I_ can taste it. You’re doing good.”

He was looking at Akaashi now, a soft gaze clouding his gaze and a smile on his face. Terushima never said these kinds of things, so Akaashi knew to take it to heart rather than pounce on him for ‘crossing boundaries.’

_It’s ok to let people care about you_.

“Thank you, Terushima-san.”

  
That night, for the first time _ever_ , Akaashi stayed in bed with Terushima for the _entire_ night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took FOREVER to write, but hope you guys enjoyed! that ending was def something :) let me know what y'all think!


	16. 1988

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit of a short chapter but i wanted to get something out for you guys! 
> 
> —   
> song for chapter: 1988 - Liberty

It was weird, Akaashi thought. The amount of things he had been feeling so suddenly, so fast. When he thought about it, it almost knocked the breath out of him. The openness. Being grounded by small, mundane things. The nostalgia, which wasn’t so bad now. The slap to the face he had received all those weeks ago was finally showing results, and this was the first time he had finally given himself the chance to take a few steps back and overview it all. 

And it wasn’t so ugly. 

It wasn’t so bad,  _ he  _ didn’t feel as bad a person. 

Not like this. 

Not with Bokuto next to him, driving his stupidly big truck that smelled like his cologne, humming some song on Akaashi’s playlist under his breath that was playing throughout the car, with his fingers wackily strumming on his steering wheel. 

How could he feel like that with this sight in front of him? It was impossible. 

Akaashi was surprised -- nonetheless -- that he had agreed to Bokuto’s impulsive trip to go home. Their hometown of Shimoda was only three hours away from Tokyo, and part of Akaashi had hoped it was a longer drive. To be with Bokuto longer. They would only be staying there for the weekend, and part of Akaashi felt rushed, like there wasn’t enough time to do anything -- to  _ say  _ what he needed to say. He twirled his ring around his finger anxiously, but was pulled from his thoughts when Bokuto rolled down their windows, the air hitting Akaashi’s face grounding him. He looked at Bokuto with a lifted brow. 

“You used to like sticking your hand out car windows on long drives,” Bokuto smiled, making Akaashi’s insides feel warm. “I’m surprised you remember that.” He stuck his hand out the window to his forearm, flattening his palm and feeling the wind wisp through his fingers. The view was beautiful, Akaashi was usually a bit afraid of heights, but not right now, there was almost no room for anxiety with Bokuto with him -- yet, he couldn’t quite put his finger on the reason why. The mountains before him cascaded into each other, resembling waves of greenery, a pretty blue lake glimmering at the bottom. 

All of this almost felt like a dream. Should he pinch himself just to be sure?

“What do you want to do when we get there? I can take you to yours or we can go to mine so you can say hi to mom.  _ Oh _ ! Or we could go to the beach!  _ Or _ go to Sato-san’s shop so he’ll give us free meat buns!” His eyes were basically sparkling, and he swerved slightly on the road as he was counting their options on his fingers. 

“I think the beach would be a nice first stop,” Akaashi agreed. “And then we can go to yours, I do want to say hi to your mom before I go to my parents.” Bokuto nodded, continuing the thrumming of his fingers against his leather steering wheel to the beat of the music. Akaashi missed all the secret glances he would shoot his way, watching the curly haired boy smile softly and close his eyes when he continued feeling the air go through his fingers out the window. 

Bokuto thought Akaashi looked prettiest like this, feeling, instead of overthinking. 

But he couldn’t tell him that, of course. 

“I’m excited,” Bokuto smiled, sneaking a glance at Akaashi who he saw frown slightly at the mention of their reality. “Are you not?”

“Huh?” Akaashi turned to him, and Bokuto almost regretted saying that. Akaashi’s usual little crinkle when he worried settled in its usual space between his brows and they furrowed downwards slightly. “Well,” he brought his hands to his lap, cupping them together to try and get rid of that familiar itch. “There’s some things I want to talk about with my parents. I’ve been dreading it for a few years and I figured now was as good a time as any. I probably won’t come back here for a while, so I wanted to do it now.”

Bokuto was silent for a long time. After a moment, Akaashi looked at him, almost doubting if he had spoken loud enough to be heard. 

“Do you think you’ll… you know, be...  _ comfortable  _ enough to stay in your parents house?”

“I’m not sure,” Akaashi rubbed at his cuticles. “I probably won’t sleep in my old room or anything, but I don’t know how I’ll feel going back to the house.”

“If you don’t want to stay there, you can come to mine, you know. I know my mom would love to have you over,” he gave Akaashi a warm smile. 

“Thank you, I might have to take you up on that.”

They drove the rest of the way to Shimoda in a -- partial -- comfortable silence, Bokuto pointing out some pretty sceneries, and Akaashi humming along softly to the music here and there. Bokuto thought Akaashi’s voice was almost as pretty as him. Almost. Even if he was super monotone and his voice cracked slightly when he hit higher notes. 

Akaashi’s mind was elsewhere though. He’d spent most of the day wondering how things would play out and every possible thing he knew his father could say. The one thought that’s been lingering for hours -- no,  _ years  _ \--  _ did his dad even remember saying that _ ? It was one thing to get into an argument about it with him, because Akaashi wasn’t a child anymore, and he didn’t owe his father anything, so he  _ could  _ and he would if he had to. That was one thing, but  _ forgetting _ ? That would tear him to shreds. He was never a bad dad, never as present as he should have been, but he worked hard for his little family, so Akaashi understood that. But could his father be so shitty of a person to forget such a damaging thing he said to his only child? 

The thought made Akaashi nervous. Because he knew this would do  _ so much bad  _ for him. Healing from that would be so much work, so many setbacks. And that angsty part of Akaashi, the part his dad fucked up, almost didn’t want to bother being ok, just to spite his father. If he thought his child wasn’t worth nurturing, then Akaashi would be sure to show him how fucked up he could be. 

But that wasn’t what the other part of Akaashi felt. Not when he was with Kiyoko, Suga, or even Kuroo -- but especially Bokuto. All the people that had been a stepping stone into his healing made him want to keep going, but it was still hard. No one held as much significance as the people who brought you into this world. And then he thought of his mom. 

_ Would mom like this version of me _ , Akaashi thought. 

Was she worth pushing past his pride?  _ Of course _ . Akaashi would do  _ anything  _ for his mother; he just wanted to see her happy. But it was still hard to think about those types of things, when he didn’t even know what exactly would come of his situation. He could only hope things would go good, because optimism is key right? Hoping for the best would bring nothing  _ but  _ the best, right?

When Akaashi spotted the familiar sound of seagulls whining about an hour later, his eyes widened. The beach he grew up on came into view, and the greenery gave off the familiar smell of recent rain. He could see the tall building far away that was his old school, and all the coiling roads brought back memories of going down them with Bokuto on his bike on Friday nights and afternoons after school. The truck whooshed past one of Bokuto’s aunts houses, all her loud chimes hanging from the porch dingling loudly. 

And only -- for  _ just a second  _ \-- Akaashi thought this place wasn’t so bad. 

He had questioned why he dreaded coming here in that split second, wondered, what was so bad about this place? It was mom’s laundry detergent and the pretty smelling perfume dad would buy her for Christmas. It was scuffed knees and volleyball games, sleepovers at Bokuto’s house, his favorite teachers, the meat buns at Sato-san’s shop that smelled of sweet desserts and the menthol cigarettes he loved so much. His cousins, who were like the siblings he never had, and his first pet. Sweaty summer nights, so humid Bokuto would say it was like they were drowning in the best way. 

Then, as they continued their drive to the beach, they passed by it.  _ His house _ . 

And it all came back to Akaashi. 

But before he was able to let himself deep dive into the ugly pit that was his mind, Bokuto’s voice pulled him forward. 

“You’re ok, yeah? Is it ok if I touch you?”

Akaashi turned to him with wide eyes, the pounding in his heart palpitating throughout his entire head, it was making his ears ring, and Bokuto’s voice sounded so far, years away. But he was able to nod his head yes, and then a palm found its way into his and they interlaced fingers. And then came the grounding feeling he had felt that night in his living room, when Bokuto’s hand and body heat had made sure Akaashi didn’t fly away like a helium balloon that would pop far away, alone. 

His eyes lingered on their hands, and he smiled slightly. It didn’t feel wrong, or uncomfortable, or intruding. This was the first time Akaashi had never questioned if an intimate touch was ‘too much’ or ‘too intimate.’ For the first time, it was just right --  _ Bokuto  _ was just right. 

They made it to the beach no more than five minutes later, and that was when they finally let go of each other. Akaashi would be lying if he were to say he didn’t miss Bokuto’s familiar heat, even if their palms had started sweating against each other. 

Bokuto parked -- horribly -- but he parked. And Akaashi led the way onto the sand, taking off his shoes and socks before. The smell of salt wafted through his nose and he could see the token sight of a group of children digging a  _ huge  _ hole, parents lying around all sunburnt with soft drinks in their hands. The waves were loud, almost made his ears ring in the best way possible when they cascaded into the inhumanely beautiful cliffs. He didn’t know what came over him, or where his anxiety from earlier went, but he couldn’t help himself when he grabbed Bokuto by the hand and began sprinting towards the water.

“Oh god,” he heard Bokuto mutter behind him, clearly surprised, but gripped his palm tightly and kept up with him nonetheless. They weaved through the few people littering the sand, careful to not ruin any sand castles and were mindful of the crabs and sand dollars, until they reached the water. A wide smile was perched on Akaashi’s face, not even the cold water could make it falter, Bokuto thought, what a sight. Akaashi faltered slightly, checking to see if Bokuto’s phone was on him, and when he saw it wasn’t he threw his sneakers away from the water and Bokuto looked at him with wide eyes, as if asking --  _ really, we’re really doing this _ ? Akaashi cocked a brow at him, and he followed suit, throwing his shoes as well. 

Then suddenly, Bokuto was pulling his shirt over his head and discarding of it, going deeper into the water. His toned back, all ripples of muscle, stretch marks trailing into his shorts, and pretty dark ink, flexed prettily under the bright sun. Akaashi could almost feel his mouth water. “Are you not going to come in? I thought we just telepathically agreed on this,” Bokuto retorted, head still facing the water -- and thankfully so because Akaashi could feel his cheeks heating pink. He tossed his shirt aside as well and went in deeper, wincing when the water hit his waist, but kept going nonetheless. 

Right now, this feeling, it was all the good things he remembered about this place. It almost didn’t feel real, like it was another life. One where none of the bad things happened and he had never left. Or maybe, Akaashi was starting to think, this was the effect Bokuto had on him. It was bordering on something that wasn’t quite as platonic as he knew it should be though. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” 

“It sure is.” 

Akaashi had his eyes locked on the pretty clear water, the seagulls floating about in it far away where the sun kissed the ocean, but Bokuto wasn’t looking at that. 

“Thank you for bringing me out here Bokuto-san,” Akaashi had turned to him now, perplexed that the older man hadn’t been mirroring him and looking out to the sea. “I’m glad I brought you,” he looked away, the water was to his chest now, and when the waves formed and cascaded towards the shore the water reached his shoulders, covering the pretty tattoos on his collarbones. The two swam and splashed about, but only for a little while, Akaashi knew Bokuto was sensitive to the cold. They gathered their thrown belongings and made their way back to Bokuto’s truck, cringing at the feeling of their wet shorts, and made their way to Bokuto’s. 

It was just as Akaashi remembered; the pretty yellow exterior, the red -- now run down -- van, vibrant plants -- their old lemon tree, and now her favorite kind of flowers as well, the one’s Bokuto had tattooed. Akaashi figured that, since he left, no one was bringing her any, so she grew them herself. It made his heart sting, not a little, but rather quite badly. The smell of spices and sweet cinnamon tea pulled Akaashi right out of his thoughts when Bokuto opened the door -- Akaashi surprised he didn’t knock. 

“Mom, we’re here!”

Bokuto’s mom rounded the corner just as Akaashi was taking his shoes off, socks uncomfortably damp, but he didn’t have a chance to dwell on the feeling even if he wanted to. He was engulfed into a tight embrace, knocking the air out of him, but he couldn’t help and smile. “Keiji! It’s been so long!” She pulled away to give him a glance at his face, now all slim features and chiseled, but his eyes still held the same softness they’ve always had. “Oh! Look how grown up and handsome you are!” Her hands came to pinch his cheek, her gray hair falling in front of her glasses. “Gah! I could cry!” She pulled him back into an embrace and Akaashi chuckled lightly, wrapping an arm around her. 

“It’s been a long time Asami-san.”

“Too long! I’m so happy Koutarou brought you, I’ve missed you.”

“Uh, I’m right here too mom.” He wore a sarcastic pout on his lips, one Akaashi hadn’t seen in a long time. “Last I saw you was a month ago, don’t be so pouty, you big baby. I haven’t seen Keiji in years, let me have my moment.” Bokuto huffed loudly, making his mother roll her eyes and let go of Akaashi who laughed and snickered at Bokuto when his mom went to embrace him, patting his hair softly and squeezing him a little too hard -- that’s how Bokuto gives hugs as well. 

“Now,” she pulled away. “Explain to me why you’re both soaking wet.” Her hands were at her hips and she stared at the two menacingly over her glasses, making Akaashi look at Bokuto, trying to hold back a laugh -- as if they had been caught doing something horrible. 

“It was his idea!” Bokuto pointed to Akaashi who gasped. “What? No, you literally brought up the beach first, I just agreed. Do you see how bad of an influence he is Asami-san?”

It had been a long time since Akaashi felt comfortable enough to be so snarky with someone. He almost felt like he was in his own home, and it was nice. Well, he practically was, now that he thought about it. This is where he grew up too. Not a lot had changed, the same pictures still hung up on the cream colored wall, but the flooring was different now. The distinct smell of delicious food still lingered the way it always did -- it made his mouth water. But he knew he couldn’t stay for long. 

He had matters to tend to, and to say he was nervous would be an understatement. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late chapter, i had midterms this week so it's been a little crazy! a nice, lighthearted chapter before the storm LMAO it was super fun writing this, let me know your guys' thoughts :)


	17. Happiness Isn't A Fixed State

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter is VERY heavy, including parental problems/neglect, talk of sexual assault and the feelings that come w that so pls be warned, it can be very triggering for some
> 
> enjoy these 6.6k words of angst :)
> 
> \---
> 
> song for chapter: Happiness Isn't A Fixed State - Kynsy

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you?” Bokuto was frowning, clearly worried, but Akaashi wasn’t feeling as giddy and carefree as he was earlier. He was wrapped in his usual cocoon of safety, the one he had been in for years -- not even Bokuto himself could pry him out of it. Not right now. Not with the ugly feeling blooming in his chest right now. If he wasn’t careful, it would overtake him. He didn’t want Bokuto to see him like that, or to worry.

Akaashi felt he wasn’t worth the stress. 

“It’s ok,” Akaashi shot him a smile, but he could feel his eyes glazing over with tears at the thought of what was coming. He patted his pockets to have an excuse to break eye contact and blink the tears back, feeling for his cigarettes and taking one in between his lips. He lit it, inhaled, and blew the smoke away from Bokuto. “I need some time alone before I go, to clear my head. But it’s ok, really.” 

Akaashi could tell he still wasn’t convinced, and was clearly debating what was the correct thing to say in a situation like this. Bokuto had never seen him in a state like this; he felt so far away, like Akaashi was barely hanging on by a thread; but if Bokuto were to reach out, would it tear? Would all the progress they had made be shredded to bits? He just wanted to be sure he was ok, but it was clear he was teetering on prying, and he didn’t want to be in business he wasn’t desired in. 

“I’m a call or text away, yeah? And the offer is still up if you don’t want to stay there,” he had taken a step forward, and when Akaashi didn’t step back he brought a hand to his bicep, giving it a light squeeze. Akaashi nodded, leaning slightly into Bokuto’s touch, but he took a step back when he caught himself. He took his cigarette out his mouth. “I’ll text you when I get there so stop being so tense and worried,” Akaashi smiled softly and Bokuto huffed out a breath through his nose and nodded, murmuring one last goodbye before closing the door. 

At that, Akaashi let out a shaky sigh, turning on his heels and beginning the journey to his parent’s house. He had changed while at Bokuto’s so he wasn’t in his soaked clothes anymore, but the backpack he was carrying felt heavier than usual. Everything felt heavier. It all was looming over his head, hanging by a single thread, and every step he took was a knife being tauntingly sliced through that thread. Maybe it’ll rip, maybe it won’t. Not even his smoke was calming his nerves, every time he brought his fingers to his lips to take it out and exhale, he knocked the ashes off it with his shaky hands. And now, it wasn’t just his talk with his dad that was looming over him, it was the fear of being back here.

He hadn’t felt it at the beach, no, but as soon as he was in Bokuto’s home he had peered over every corner, expecting to see _him_. And even more now that he was alone. Akaashi didn’t even know if he still lived here, but by the looks of it his family did, based on the same cars being in his driveway when they passed by his house matching the ones they owned all those years ago. Akaashi’s heart felt like it was in his throat, and he could almost taste the nervous vile rising in his throat that was the cinnamon tea Bokuto’s mom had given him. 

It was a fear Akaashi knew was unrealistically rooted, but could he be blamed? This was the town in which he lost his innocence, not just in _that_ way, but in every way. This is where he learned to hate home, and where home was no longer home -- it was his _parent’s_ home. Sure, there were good attachments, but the few bad things overpowered those in a heartbeat. This is where he learned to never trust anyone ever again, where he was taught that even familial love was never enough. This was where he learned that only his mother loved him. She was all he had. 

Akaashi hated pondering on that thought, that his mother was all he had, but even then that relationship with her wasn’t even as strong as he wanted it to be. Not with the physical and emotional distance he put between them. He left her alone with him, and it was something that ate at him every single day of his life. 

What his dad said wasn’t the only bad thing he had said about what was done to him. He had said so much more. But they were things Akaashi had consciously begged himself to block out, but now, that barrier was gone. How could it exist in a place of such raw emotions? 

_I feel so bad for that boy, he ruined his life. He’s so young._

_His family must be so embarrassed, I feel for his mother and father._

_Is he really to blame in a world that glorifies sexual things?_

_Maybe you could suck it up for a while, so mom can keep up with the house. It isn’t that big of a deal, right?_

_This is no reason to sulk, Keiji._

_Life goes on, and it won’t stop, not even for you. Not for things like this._

**_Is this even worth reporting to the police?_ **

Maybe his dad was just an inherently bad man. 

Why make excuses for him, Akaashi thought. What was he trying to defend? His dad’s honor? He had no reason to care about that, why would he? Maybe this was Akaashi wanting to hold onto his last shred of hope, that maybe his dad did actually love him, or even care for him in the slightest. It wasn’t wrong to want love from the person who helped bring him into this life.

Probably explains the amount of male validity he had and needed in his life to keep himself going though.

Akaashi chucked himself, “God, this shit is _fucked_ ,” he mumbled to himself, pressing his cigarette into a public ashtray as he passed by it. His parent’s house was only about a ten minute walk from Bokuto’s home, and he could already see the little metal flowers his mother had stuck up onto the roof all those years ago, the kind that spun when the wind picked up. He smiled softly at the sight, but furrowed his brows when he saw that their car wasn’t there -- maybe only one of them was out. Akaashi approached the front door -- his heart was beating so fast he could feel it about to leap out his throat. He knocked, softly, one, two, three times. 

No answer. 

Maybe they were _both_ out then. 

He tried the knob, and pushed the little red door open. “It’s Keiji, mom!” 

No answer again, but the smell of rice and fish wafted throughout the house heavily. Akaashi slipped his shoes off and set his bag down besides them, making his way towards the kitchen. There was a plate of onigiri on the counter, a little note besides it in his mom’s sloppy handwriting.

_Dad and I went to store for last minute groceries for dinner tonight. Snack on this while we get back, I know you’re hungry!_

Warmth spread throughout Akaashi in a way it rarely did, a crooked smile adorning his lips at the lopsided heart she had drawn at the end of her note in a pink colored pen, scribbled in. The house didn’t look the same inside at all. All the furniture was new and moved around, the walls were painted, and the tile was now a pretty oak wood. Some of the decorations remained the same -- the portraits of them together, a few pictures of Akaashi with old family friends, cousins, aunts and uncles. The plants were all alive and the sink was empty. It was clean. 

This didn’t look _at all_ like the place Akaashi used to call home. 

He went into the kitchen to wash his hands -- well, at least she still bought the same lavender soap. He grabbed an onigiri and took a bite, then another to get to the middle -- spicy tuna, his favorite. Akaashi hummed in delight, then remembered he had told Bokuto he would text him, so he sent him a quick text, finished his onigiri, and made his way upstairs.

Part of him didn’t want to, but the curiosity was eating at him, and he didn’t know if he was going to have the guts to see his room later when he wasn't alone anymore and his parents would be here. He would allow himself this _one_ moment, and no more, this was it. Would it still be the same?

Akaashi could feel his blood running cold as he held onto the rail, it felt like his legs could give out at any moment, but he forcefully trudged forward. The hallway upstairs was different too, nothing was the same -- why had they renovated the whole house? Akaashi knew his parents weren’t fond of change and useless expenses, so why? He stopped in his tracks when he saw his room -- there was a key sticking out of the door, like it was usually kept closed and locked. Akaashi wouldn’t be surprised if that was the doings of his mom, it was hard on her too. He sighed when he went to open the door and it was locked, he turned the key and the lock clicked open and he pushed the door forward. 

It looked the same as it had that night. Akaashi hadn’t stepped in there after, this was the first time since it happened. He closed the door behind him, fingernails pressing into his cuticles. His fingers were going numb and his heart was beating like crazy, but he was breathing ok.

“It’s ok, this is ok, I’m ok,” he whispered to himself.

He took a deep breath in and wrapped his arms around himself. It was the exact same. The hole in the wall was still there, the screen was still slightly bent on one end -- the end that had been forced open --, and Akaashi could see the stain of blood barely hidden by the comforter of the bed, and he couldn’t help but wince at the sight. It had clearly been scrubbed at, but it was no use, it had sat there for too long, and it would be there forever unless it was painted over. The comforter was different, and it looked like a different mattress. He opened the dresser where his clothes were and found that they looked to have been rummaged in, not neatly folded the way Akaashi had always had it -- but just the shirts, not his pants or his shorts. It was odd. 

When he left, he left everything behind. And when he arrived at his grandma’s he had wanted nothing to do with him, he didn’t want to own any of the clothes he had touched. He threw away his sheets, the carpet that used to be in his room, the curtains. He had to give the hospital his clothes for evidence, but that was the least of his worries. Everything felt dirty for a long time after that; _Akaashi_ felt dirty for a long time. And the itching feeling he used to feel, where it felt like bugs crawling on his skin -- no, _in_ his skin -- it was coming back. This was the nostalgia he hated, this feeling -- he felt like it was happening again. He could feel the pressure in his stomach, the stinging in his back, the blood trickle down his legs.

Akaashi hated that he still associated those feelings with his childhood room. Because good things happened here too. He had sleepovers with Bokuto and his cousins here, his mom would burn pretty smelling candles sometimes and the scent would last for days, and sleep with him when he would have nightmares as a child. He built his desk with his dad in this room, and this used to be the room the cat they used to have would sleep in because she loved Akaashi so much. This was where Akaashi and Bokuto got drunk for the first time and where they read manga to each other.

But none of those memories helped. They didn’t surmount the bad things, they never could, and they never would. 

Akaashi sat on his bed and brought his legs to his chest. He wished the feeling of his skin crawling didn’t get worse when he did that, and he wished he didn’t begin to hyperventilate. He wished none of this had happened, and that this could be just a normal trip back to the place he used to call home, and that he didn’t hate his father. He wished things could be normal, but they were so beyond fucked up, normal could never be possible. 

Akaashi realized suddenly, that he could make these thoughts stop, or at least feel just a little better. He pulled his phone out, vision blurry, and pressed it against his ear, hearing it ring only thrice before the other line picked up.

“Hey, ” Akaashi murmured. 

“Are you ok?”

“No,” he sighed, his breath was shaky over the line. 

“Do you want me to go get you?”

“No, it’s ok. My mom is making dinner and I’d hate to just leave her hanging. I just didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts.”

Bokuto hummed and there was a small silence before Akaashi spoke up again.

“I’m in my old room right now, and everything is the same and it’s weird,” he said.

“Is that the best place for you to be in right now?” Bokuto questioned.

“No, but I needed to know how I’d feel and… it’s not good. But at least I know,” Akaashi shrugged, sighing when he noticed he had tore his cuticles open again and he was bleeding. He hopped off the bed and made his way towards the bathroom.

“I won’t be able to spend the night here, Bokuto-san, can you come get me after I’ve had dinner?”

“Anything for you Keiji.”

Akaashi smiled at the use of his given name as he washed the blood off his hands, phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder. The two murmured their goodbyes to each other when Akaashi said his parents were home now -- Bokuto, again, telling him to call if he needed anything. If it was anybody else, Akaashi knew he would have gotten _very_ annoyed, but somehow, not when it was Bokuto. It was more comforting than anything, to know his friend was willing to be his shoulder. It made something in him flutter. 

“Keiji?” It was his mom’s voice.

“I’m up here,” he made his way down the stairs, shaking the water off his hands. “Oh, my sweet boy, look at you,” her blue eyes glazed over softly as she opened her arms, waiting for Akaashi to fall into her embrace. It had been about a year since they had seen each other -- six since they had seen each other _here_ , and Akaashi could cry at the feeling of his mom wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He had to bend down slightly and he rested his chin on her shoulder, the smell of her detergent matching the one he had at home. She smelt like home. She rubbed up and down his back and pulled away -- only slightly -- to kiss his cheek, and then pulled him back in, tighter. 

Their moment was cut short when his dad walked in, brows pulled together the way they always were. He was carrying way too many grocery bags, and Akaashi couldn’t help himself when he pulled away from his mom and went to take them from his dad. “Hi dad,” his voice was weaker than he had intended for it to come out. “Keiji, thank you,” he rubbed at his back, not initiating any sort of motion that he wanted physical contact with Akaashi so he settled on going into the kitchen and setting the bags on the counter. The tension was obvious, but everyone ignored it. Like they ignored a lot of things. 

“How has school been, son?” 

“Oh, it's good. It’s my last semester, so things are a little hectic, but grades and attendance are good.”

“Ah! My little Keiji, finally going to finish school, what a milestone! You’ll have to tell us when you’re graduating, so we can sort out a visit to Tokyo to see you!” His mom’s hands squeezed his biceps, and the sudden touch made him flinch and drop the carton of tofu in his hands. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you sweetheart,” his mom bent down to pick up the carton and she curtly dried her hands after washing them and began taking out her assortment of pots and pans they would use to make dinner. He could feel his dad burning holes into the back of his head, and he turned to meet eyes with him.

“You’re still all jumpy and on edge?” It was quiet enough for his mom not to hear, but loud enough for Akaashi to hear. It was meant just for him. 

Akaashi furrowed his brows at the sly comment and leaned on the counter, cocking his chin up. He wasn’t going to back down, now wasn’t the time for it. Yes, he was in _their_ home, but he still deserved to be respected, Akaashi being his child didn’t mean he had to lie down and take it. 

“Can’t blame me, right?”

His dad stared at him for a bit with narrowed eyes and scoffed, continuing his previous task of helping take the groceries out. Akaashi gnawed on the inside of his lip, to keep from his nails. It was harder to ignore the nagging from his dad when he was at their house. When his parents would go stay at his apartment in Tokyo his dad never really was as snarky, probably figuring it wasn’t as appropriate in a home that wasn’t his. 

What followed were the two most dragging hours of Akaashi’s life, filled with snarky remarks his dad would say, then his mom would try and fix it by saying something sweet and motherly -- like she always did. It worked, but only for a little while. There was only so much he could take though, and he could physically feel himself reaching his limit. They were sticking a band-aid on a cracking dam, and it was going to burst soon.

They had prepared some miso soup, rice, salmon, and pickled vegetables. Akaashi’s mom had set down her pretty, fancy dishes, and that alone alleviated the nauseous feeling building up in Akaashi’s stomach. It was nice to be treated to a home cooked meal. He himself didn’t always have the motivation or time to cook things like this for himself, so it was nice. The kitchen smelt the way it always did when he was a child, and came with it the not-so-bad memories. A relieved smile made its way onto his lips. They sat down around the table, and Akaashi dumbly flickered his eyes between his parents when they began praying. He hadn’t done that in a long time, and he had forgotten how to recite the words along with them. 

“Thank you for the food,” Akaashi murmured with them at the end, taking his chopsticks into his hands and placing a piece of salmon into his mouth. “It’s really good mom,” he stuffed a mouthful or rice into his mouth, savoring the taste of it with the fish. He missed his mom’s food. 

“I missed cooking for you Keiji,” her smile was warm, wrapped Akaashi in a hug, the same way it did all those years ago. “You always appreciate my food,” she let out a small laugh, and Akaashi didn’t miss the way that her eyes flickered to his father, as if waiting for him to say something about what she had said. 

“How’s work?” He had turned to his father. 

“It’s getting harder now, now that I’m getting older and all,” he cleared his throat. He owned a small business that renovated the interior of houses. “But it’s good, lots of jobs lately. Apparently everyone and their damn mother is doing renovations.”

“I noticed you guys renovated here,” Akaashi pointed out, eyes grazing over all the new things in their home -- even the counters, he had missed that before. 

“Ah,” his mom said. “Yes, but it was a few years ago, almost right after you left.” Her eyes downturned slightly and she kept her gaze on her food, chopsticks stilling in her hand. Akaashi wanted to ask why, but figured he already knew the answer to that. If something like _that_ had happened in his home, he’d change everything about it so as not to be reminded of it so much. 

“Well, I like it, especially the flooring. Did you do it dad?”

“Of course, it’s why it looks so good.” Akaashi chuckled.

They continued their dinner, slight conversation here and there. His parents weren’t that big on talking. Well, not when his dad was there, but when it was just Akaashi and his mother, it was hard to get her rambling under control. It was hard seeing her like this, Akaashi had gotten so used to her rambling, the sound effects she would make, and her dramatic gasps when they talked on the phone -- a lot like Bokuto. They talked about college, and Akaashi mentioned he already had a few firms in mind that he wanted to join once he was done with school. He had always dreamed of owning his own office, getting a business license wasn’t so hard, and he had a lot of money saved already from Terushima. It could work. But he wanted to feel out the career before diving in nose first to see if that was something he really wanted. In the end, he figured that was what would happen eventually, he’d hate to be working under someone for the rest of his life. 

Akaashi didn’t enjoy being tied down. 

“You know, I’ve always found it odd how you have such a nice apartment Keiji. I mean -- you do only work part time, no?”

Akaashi tensed slightly -- visibly so.

“You don’t ask those types of questions honey,” his mom scolded. 

“What? He’s our son, it’s ok. You have some secret job we’re not aware of?”

“I tutor year round -- not really a second job or anything, but it brings in extra cash,” he lied. “And the job at the café pays pretty well too.”

He could tell his father wasn’t convinced but decided to hold his tongue, thankfully. How could he tell his parents, _oh yeah I’ve been fucking this man ten years older than me. He pays my rent, gives me money, and buys me expensive gifts in exchange for my body_ . It sounded rather vulgar when he put it that way, but it was quite fun. Terushima brought lavish things into his life he had never imagined having. Plus, not having to bust his ass off was nice. He had enough to give to the people around him too, and it made Akaashi content -- no, _happy_. 

“Not enough to be sending your mom money every month,” his dad muttered. Akaashi furrowed his brows, shooting a look at his mom. _Don’t_ , her eyes said.

“Do you have a problem with that?” He asked, setting down his chopsticks. 

“We don’t need your help is all I’m saying,” his dad shrugged. 

“That money is hers, not yours. Is there something wrong with me wanting to give back to the person who _actually_ took care of me when I lived here?”

“Keiji,” his mom looked at him with wary eyes. She looked so tired -- tired of _him_. 

“Are you saying I didn’t take care of you when you lived here?” His dad was gripping his soup spoon so roughly, Akaashi was surprised it hadn’t disintegrated in his hand. 

“Yes, because you didn’t.”

“You’re joking right?” He scoffed.

“Fumihiro, please, now isn’t the time for this. Keiji hasn’t been home in a long time, let him enjoy his time here, please.” 

“No, Manami. You think I’m going to let him talk to me like that?” His voice was raised now, borderline yelling. Akaashi flinched. “I put a roof over his head, I put food on the table, clothes on his back -- I’m the reason he’s even here! _I’m_ the one who allowed him to go stay with your mother because he lost his damn fight here!”

Something in Akaashi snapped, he could physically feel the ache in his chest, and the words he wanted to say burned his throat. Everything he had pent up in him for years flashed through his eyes. All the nasty words, backhanded remarks, how he treated his mother like an object meant to play housekeeper. 

“You think sending me away fixed _anything_ ?” Akaashi yelled, standing from his seat roughly. He knocked over his tea and the liquid spilled onto the table. “You think that _dealt_ with the _problem_ , dad? Nothing changed! I’m still fucked up, because _you_ didn’t love me enough to give me simple comfort. Being here hurt, but it didn’t hurt as much as being sent away did -- and I had to pretend I wanted to go because _you_ didn’t want mom to know it was _you_ that didn’t want me here.” Tears were running down his face now, and his screams felt like sandpaper against his throat. 

This was it. The dam was overflowing. There was no going back now. It was all going to come out and destroy everything in its path. Akaashi was finally going to explode. 

“What?” It was his mom.

His dad was looking at him through furrowed brows.

“Are you even surprised mom?” Akaashi hiccupped. “He’s always hated me, even before what happened.”

“I don’t hate you Keiji.”

His dad was like a deer caught in headlights. He was afraid Akaashi was going to tell her all the horrible things he's said -- he was pleading Akaashi with his eyes to stop. But he wasn’t going to stop. Akaashi wasn't going to be the only person shouldering all the things he’s said. His mom deserved to know the kind of man she had married.

“You don’t love me though, you never have,” his voice had dipped into a whisper. He wiped at his face. “Mom’s never heard the things you used to tell me though, right? She thinks you’re some saint, always in the right, because you let her think that. But you know what mom?” His eyes were on her now, and he laughed, a dark laugh. “My dad is the worst person to roam this damn earth. You know he cared more about the house than you and me? He was worried about the dishes that weren’t done, the plants and the bins, and how you didn’t make dinner anymore, how you didn’t eat with him because you were busy taking care of me. _That_ was what he was worried about after _I_ got fucking _raped_ ,” a sob ripped out of him. His skin was crawling, his forehead was prickled with sweat from yelling. “He didn’t even think reporting it was worthwhile, _that’s_ why I took so long to go to the police. _He_ made me believe for _years_ that what happened to me wasn’t bad. I was _pushed_ out of this house because _he_ didn’t want me here. Don’t you see mom? You married a _monster_.”

“What gives you the right to go and make these kinds of accusations Akaashi? This is _my_ home.”

His mom was wide eyed, tears were brimming her eyes. Akaashi felt bad for letting it out like this, but how else? She needed to know, she _had_ to know. 

“You think I’d go and make these kinds of things up? You think I’d come back here after all this time without a reason to? I’ve had _enough_ , I’ve suffered too much because of you, I can’t hold onto this anymore. I shouldn’t have to accept abuse from anyone, especially from you. You’re supposed to be my _dad_ , you’re supposed to _love_ me -- y-you’re supposed to be the one to set the standard, and yet, I can’t even bring myself to love you anymore. And I won’t force myself to either, because I know you won’t change. Someone like you will always be this way.”

They stood in a tension filled silence. Akaashi wanted to say it, but knew it was too much. 

No, there were no more boundaries here. There was no reason to hold back anymore, he had laid his heart out on the table, and if his mom already knew that, she had to know this too. She had to know she didn't have to stick around -- that his dad didn't deserve her. 

“Providing for me, just enough to keep me alive, wasn’t the way you should have raised a child, dad. Providing is the absolute bare minimum. You did everything you could _wrong_ and had my mom pick up your slack. That’s not how to be a good dad or husband. If this was the way you planned on treating the family you made, you shouldn’t have had me, or married my mom in the first place. You don’t deserve someone like me as your son, and you _definitely_ don’t deserve someone like my mom as your wife.”

Akaashi leaned forward, hand on the table. “One day, dad, you won’t have _anybody_. Nobody will look for you or seek to make memories with you. Mom will leave you after she’s had enough, and this will be the last of me you’re ever getting. You won’t have _anybody_. And that day, when you’re old and all alone, you’ll finally get a _taste_ of what it’s like living in a home with you. You _deserve_ to be alone, and I’ll see to it for the rest of my damn life that you end up it.”

He straightened himself, smug at the expression he had left plastered on his dad's face. “I’m sorry mom. I wanted to have a nice time with you, but I just can’t with him here. I’m leaving here on Sunday if you want to come with me, I have a room for you in my home. I’ll be leaving now.”

This all felt a little too familiar, like he was having déjà vu.

Akaashi turned abruptly on his heel and made his way to the door. He shoved his feet into his shoes and grabbed his backpack, slamming his door on his way out. He unlocked his phone and brought it to his ear once it started ringing.

“C-can you come get me? Please?”

He heard shuffling on his end, “I’m on my way, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He hung up.

Akaashi sighed, leaning on the gate outside his parents and letting himself fall into a sitting position, knees pressed against his chest. He pulled out a cigarette and felt his shoulders drop at his first drag. He felt impossibly lighter, but also a million times heavier at the same time. Putting his father in his place felt amazing, and he was glad his mom finally knew who he truly was. Akaashi wanted nothing more than for his mother to just pack her bags and leave with them on Sunday, to divorce his dad and never look back. But he knew his mother wasn’t the type to do that, she liked to see the best in people, she always rooted for them. Just like she did for Akaashi. She just wanted the people she loved to be happy alongside her. But his father didn’t deserve that. 

Suddenly, there was a warmth besides him. It was her. 

She let out a sigh as she mirrored Akaashi, bringing her knees to her chest. She reached out and took the cigarette out of his mouth, took a drag, and gave it back to him. 

“I don’t like you smoking.”

“You just did it too.”

“I’m your mom, I make the rules.”

They both let out a small laugh, it was forced, but it lightened the mood just enough. Akaashi leaned his head on her shoulder, the angle was awkward and it strained his neck slightly, but he just wanted to be close to her. 

“You’ve changed a lot Keiji. I don’t know how much I had to do with it, but I’m glad I was able to raise such a wonderful man. You’re everything I wanted you to be from the day I first held you -- maybe even more.” 

Akaashi heard her sniffle and he put an arm around her, pulling her warmth closer. She put a hand over his free one. _I’m here_ , her touch said. 

“What happened to you shouldn’t have happened. I -- I shouldn’t have left you alone, I should have been there, I should have known. I should have sensed his intentions with you.”

“It was nobody’s fault but his, mom.”

“I know,” she kissed his forehead. “But as your mother, it’s how I’m bound to feel. The day you -- if you have children, you’ll understand. What happened brought out a lot of ugly things out of everybody, especially your father. But he’s always been this way, I’ve tried to change him, but after a while I realized I can’t make him be who I need him to be. It has to be him that wants to change. He needed this, he needed you to come here and see how the things he’s done and said affect the people around him. I should have said something sooner, I _knew_ something was wrong, but I just didn’t want to assume the worst because I love him. I had this gut feeling you didn’t want to leave to your grandma’s and -- and I still let you go.”

Akaashi wiped a tear that had escaped him and he gave his mom a squeeze.

“Even if he hadn’t forced me out, I don’t know if I would have survived if I had stayed here, it’s too much, even now after all this time. You saw how I was. It was best I left, don’t blame yourself, you didn’t know. I should have said something.”

“You were a child, Keiji, it was the adults that were supposed to know better. We failed you, I should have been a better parent I --”

“It wasn’t you that was the bad parent mom. You did everything you could -- more than you had to. I got so bad that you had to do everything for me.”

“Well, that’s what mothers are for, no? I didn’t know what to do, but I did my best, but I should have still done more. I should have pushed you to report it sooner, you wouldn’t have to be dealing with it still,” she huffed out a shaky breath. “We can’t change anything now, but I hope your father changes. You deserve at least that much. I’ll be sure to be on him about it, but I can’t leave him Keiji. I love him and I’m all he has.”

“You’re too good of a person sometimes,” Akaashi took a drag of his cigarette. “He’s not going to change, but I can’t make you leave him either. What I will say though, is that I have enough money and I know people who could make a divorce easier if that’s what you want. I know a lawyer as well. And you can come live with me.”

“You’re not doing any shady stuff right Keiji?” Her eyes narrowed, but he could tell she was slightly joking from the twitch of her lips trying to hold back a smile. Akaashi thought about it for a second. His mom knew a lot of things about him, she knew about Terushima, and some of the other people he saw. He didn’t think she understood _why_ he did those things, but she knew about them nonetheless. 

“No, but one of the guys I see gives me lots of money though,” he shrugged, offering her the cigarette, but she shook her head no. 

“But.. you’re not, you know, selling yourself… right?”

“Oh my god, no! Well, technically --” he pursed his lips and his mom gasped, smacking his chest. They both let out a laugh at that, she knew he was joking. 

“He’s not all old and wrinkly right?”  
  


Akaashi shook his head “He’s only a few years younger than you.”

“Jesus, you’re gonna give me a damn hernia one day.”

Headlights from Bokuto’s huge truck submerged them in a stream of white light and they winced. Akaashi stood from his spot, helping his mom up. “Who’s that?” her eyes were squinting to try and catch a glance at who was inside. “It’s Koutarou.”

“Oh,” her brows shot up. “You two are still friends?”

Akaashi nodded, “We recently came into contact again. He lives in Tokyo too, we met again through… a mutual friend. I’ll be staying at his, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to stay here.” She nodded understandingly and pulled him into a tight hug. Akaashi rested his chin at the top of her head and sighed. 

“I’m taking you out to eat or something before I leave, ok? We have to do something together before I go,” his palm rested on the side of her face and she nodded. Akaashi was glad that she didn’t cluster herself with his father, in the sense that if Akaashi didn’t see his father then he couldn’t see his mother. 

Akaashi cocked his head when he heard the door of Bokuto’s car slam shut and he watched in amusement as he jogged around the hood of his truck. He bowed when he was in front of his mom. “Hi Akaashi-san, it’s really nice to see you!”

Akaashi’s mom shot him a smile -- Bokuto forgot just how much Akaashi had resembled his mother, and seeing them stand side by side, it was like he was seeing double. “You can call me Manami, it’s nice to see you again Koutarou, it’s been a very long time!” 

“It really has, it’s been a while since I’ve come back as well.”

“How are you doing?” She had a gentle hand on one of his arms. 

“Pretty good! It’s nice being back home, I really missed my mom, but I wish my sisters were here. But then again, this was a pretty spontaneous trip we planned, literally like -- a couple days ago?” He looked at Akaashi, asking for a confirmation from Akaashi with his eyes, and hummed when he nodded. 

“I ran into her the other day at the store, you all look so much alike it’s crazy,” she laughed.

“You’re one to talk! You two are identical copies of each other,” Bokuto motioned to them two, who looked at each other and nodded in defeat. 

“Well, he’s my baby, he’s gotta resemble me at least a _little_ ,” she ruffled Akaashi’s hair and a blush made its way onto his cheeks in embarrassment. “I’ll take good care of him,” Bokuto said. Akaashi blushed harder at that and took the last drag of his cigarette to deter them from looking at him. “We’ll be seeing you soon Manami-san, I’m sure Keiji will want to see you before we go.” 

“Of course Koutarou, thank you for tending to him.”

The two hopped into Bokuto’s truck, Akaashi with much less struggle than the first time and he sighed as he sank into his seat. He was tired from crying and yelling so much. And now that all the adrenaline was gone, he could feel that nasty feeling crawling under his skin. He needed to shower. He needed to cry too, but also didn’t want Bokuto to see him like that. 

Akaashi furrowed his brows when he realized Bokuto was going the wrong way.

“Hey, where are we going?”

“To the beach. We’re going to scream our feelings out into the ocean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what a fucking rollercoaster. this chap was v heavy and i hope everyone is ok! this was difficult to write and made me realize i project A LOT onto Akaashi LMAO but i really really hope you guys enjoyed this one, came from deeeeep in my heart :) lmk what y'all thought
> 
> \- L


	18. Sola

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for chaper: Sola - Jessie Reyez
> 
> if y'all were to listen to at least one of the songs i put as the titles PLS listen to this one! it fits PERFECTLY with this chapter! it's in Spanish but it's so so good!

Akaashi had never been to the beach twice in one day. He hadn’t known how to say no to Bokuto, so he let him bring them here without a fight. Kiyoko would probably classify this as some sort of healing experience, so Akaashi also thought it wouldn’t be that bad of a thing. 

Akaashi was starting to realize that a lot of things weren’t so bad when they were with Bokuto. 

“Is this even allowed?” Akaashi asked, holding onto the sleeve of Bokuto’s shirt so as to not fall as they made their way through the sand to get to the water. 

“I don’t think so, but who’s here to tell us to leave?” Bokuto motioned with his free hand towards the empty beach. It was completely bare, except for a cat sitting under one of the lamp posts by the sidewalk where the truck was parked. Akaashi let out a small laugh at that, and then suddenly he felt the cold water under his toes, making goosebumps pimple up his skin.

“Now,” Bokuto gripped his face, squeezing his cheeks. “I don’t know how deep you’re willing to get about your problems, so I’ll start.”

Akaashi nodded, dumbfounded and watched as Bokuto pulled them slightly more into the water, only enough for the tide to cover their bare feet. 

“I wish I didn’t hate my personality and feel like all I do is nag!” Bokuto screamed, a _real_ scream. Akaashi had never heard his voice this loud and it made him flinch slightly and take a step back.

“Ok, your turn,” Bokuto turned, giving Akaashi a gentle smile. His eyes were glossy.

Oh.

Akaashi nodded and gulped, turning back to the ocean. The tide was higher than earlier in the day, and if he looked hard enough into the water, he could see a lighthouse blinking far, far away. He took a deep breath in. 

“I don’t know how to express my feelings without hurting the people I love!” Akaashi screamed. The raw feeling in his throat grounded him slightly, and suddenly he saw the appeal. He could feel something inside him deflating, as if out in the ocean the people he wanted to hear these things were listening and this wasn’t all for nothing. 

“I hate that the beach reminds me of you, why did you leave?” Bokuto’s voice cracked slightly at the end, and without a second thought Akaashi gripped his hand in his, keeping his eyes on the water.

“I wish I had a dad that gave a fuck and actually loved me!” The tears were burning his eyes now, but he didn’t want to fight them back, for once. For _once_ Akaashi didn’t feel the need to censor his emotions. There was no need to. 

“Why do I have to grow old and give up the only thing that I love?”

“Why me? Why did it have to happen to me? I wish you didn’t make me feel so dirty all the fucking time!” A sob ripped from Akaashi’s throat. Bokuto squeezed his hand. 

“I wish I could tell him I miss him and not just be stuck with pictures and a sad mom!” He was talking about his dad, it made the frown on Akaashi’s lips deepen. 

“I miss having deep feelings, I hate feeling so cold and heartless all the time, and I _hate_ that I enjoy it!” Kuroo and Terushima came to mind, Suga too. Even his dad. 

“I wish my sister wasn’t such a bitch! It wasn’t my fault!”

“I don’t know how to stop carrying everything bad that’s ever happened to me and it hurts so _much_!”

Bokuto hiccupped, and Akaashi turned to him, only for a second and saw his eyes cast down towards the water, then turned back to the water. He knew Bokuto didn’t like being looked at when he cried. Akaashi rubbed his thumb soothingly over the skin of Bokuto’s hand, feeling the callous on the inside of his palm rub against his. 

All of this made part of Akaashi feel good, like he was taking in a deep breath of refreshing air, in a way he hasn’t in years. But another part of him wanted Bokuto to know more too, to know that his plan of helping Akaashi feel better and lighter in his own way was working. And that Akaashi appreciated it. So he kept going, and he didn’t stop until he was out of breath and his throat felt like knives were running down it. 

“I wish I didn’t feel like an undeserving whore everyday of my life, it makes it so fucking _hard_ to not want to die! I wish therapy wasn’t so draining, and that feelings weren’t so complicated! I wish I could let people love me without thinking they’re going to hurt me like he did! I wish my mental illnesses would go away and that my hands weren’t so ugly because of them!”

“Your hands aren’t ugly,” Bokuto murmured, and at that Akaashi let out a chuckle. He dragged them both back a couple steps, just enough to where the tide didn’t reach at all, and he sat down, legs tucked under one another. “You really think your hands are ugly?” Bokuto was trying to distract from the fact that he still had tears going down his face, so Akaashi took the very obvious bait. 

“I do,” he wiped the tears off his cheeks then cupped his hands into his lap to hide them. They were still irritated and torn up from earlier. He needed to clean them and bandage them. 

“Can I see them?”

“They’re pretty bad,” he said, handing them to Bokuto. Bokuto ran his fingers over the raw skin, the fingers he didn’t pick at often were covered in scars, visible even with the minimal amount of light they had. The ones he had picked at recently were violently red, they looked as if they could almost bleed again. They were still pretty hands nonetheless. 

“It’s my anxiety tic,” Akaashi explained. Bokuto nodded, remembering that he had told him something along those lines when he picked him up one day. 

“My hands are pretty messed up from volleyball too, I paint them so the first thing people don’t notice is my crooked fingers,” he breathed out a laugh and Bokuto turned his palm over and was twirling at the ring Akaashi was wearing. 

“I bought it for myself,” Akaashi blurted. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to say it, but he didn’t want Bokuto getting the wrong idea. A lot of people usually did. “To try and fidget with it instead of my fingers. I’m not really good at remembering the ring though.” Bokuto was still running his finger around it, eyes on Akaashi’s instead of the ring. It was making him nervous.

“You sure you didn’t go off and get married and are keeping it from me?” Bokuto teased, leaning towards Akaashi with an arched brow, faking curiosity. 

“No worries, I’m still available,” Akaashi teased back, letting out an embarrassingly loud laugh when Bokuto blushed violently and stammered on his words. Akaashi laid on his back in the sand. It would get in his hair and it would be a drag to get it out of his hair, but he didn’t care, not right now. Bokuto was still flustered, making Akaashi scoff and roll his eyes, dragging him down to lay down next to him. 

“Did you try and kiss me that day in your apartment Bokuto-san?”

It was something that’s been in the back of his head for a long time, and by the time he realized what he had said, it was too late to take it back. But he didn’t really care, he felt he didn’t care about a lot of things right now -- but not in a bad way. More so in a lighthearted way, like nothing bad could come back to bite him in the ass.

Bokuto turned to him and Akaashi turned too. Like this, in the position they were in, with their shoulders and thighs touching, Akaashi could feel his breath on his lips. “You really don’t beat around the bush anymore huh?” He chuckled.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Akaashi pursed his lips. Bokuto nodded, making Akaashi sigh and turn his gaze back to the stars above them. 

“Do you still want to?” Akaashi asked. 

“Yes.”

“There’s a lot of things wrong with me Bokuto.”

“That doesn’t make you any less appealing.”

“It should.”

Akaashi watched as Bokuto turned back to him once again, this time closer, and with purpose. Part of him wanted to pull away, to not make things complicated, it would only make everything harder. He thought of Kuroo, his message still awaiting to be responded to, probably asking something stupid and cheesy like what Akaashi had for dinner. Then he thought of himself. How he didn’t do this kind of thing, yet here he was, at the beach with Bokuto at almost ten at night in their hometown. Akaashi wanted to be afraid of this, but he couldn’t find it in him, not with Bokuto looking at him the way he was, soft eyes practically glimmering with the moonlight. 

Bokuto reached out a hand, and Akaashi made no move to deter it from touching him, so he took that as an ok and rested his palm against his jaw and cupped it. His fingers grazed against Akaashi’s cheekbones, calluses and all, but Akaashi couldn’t help but lean into his touch. It felt too right to reject, too tempting to pull away from. 

“You having problems doesn’t lessen anything Keiji, it doesn’t make you less deserving or not lovable.” Bokuto’s hands were tangled in his hair, Akaashi practically humming at the touch. They were _so_ close now, Akaashi could see the little specks of brown in Bokuto’s eyes and the freckles on his nose. He wanted to look away, to get away, but he couldn’t. He wanted it, he’s always wanted it, but he’s never let himself drown in the feelings he knew have always been there. Because they’re just friends, and that’s all it was supposed to be. 

“This will make things more complicated, you know?” Akaashi said. He could feel Bokuto’s lashes brushing against his cheek. 

“I’m quite alright with that, are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Give me a yes or a no Keiji.”

“No, we shouldn’t.”

Akaashi sat up, sighing as he rubbed a hand over his face. It was the last thing he wanted, to make things tense; but he couldn’t. He’d only drive him away, and he didn’t want to be away from Bokuto anymore. This is how things were meant to be, they were _just_ supposed to be friends — it was the simplest thing, an untouched thing. He didn’t allow for his friends to see the nasty, heartless side of him. He didn’t want Bokuto to see that side of him, if they were to be anything but friends that was a real possibility. 

Akaashi didn’t want to drive Bokuto away. 

Nobody deserved to have to deal with Akaashi and all his baggage. It was too much, too heavy.

“I don’t _do_ these types of things Bokuto,” he explained, bringing his knees up to his chest. “I’m selfish and — and cold, I don’t deserve to have something like this — I don’t want to ruin what we have, I’m ok with things being the way they are.”

“I’m not going to push you to explain yourself to me about why you think that, but you’re too hard on yourself. You’re not undeserving of this — of _anything_. If anything, I think that you’re the most deserving person I know, but you don’t seem to feel that way about yourself.” He had his arms tucked underneath his head, and Akaashi was surprised to see him so nonchalant. Like the words he said didn’t carry the weight they actually did, and like Akaashi hadn’t rejected him. 

“I think you’re worth it, Keiji.”

Akaashi stared at Bokuto, dumbfounded. 

Nobody had ever said anything like that to him before, how could they? Most of the people in Akaashi’s life served a purpose, to make him feel good, to distract him, to entertain him. The feelings that came with that was something along the lines of enjoyment, but this, what was happening with Bokuto, it was similar yet different. It was all those things, all the good things he had ever felt for anybody in those split, rare seconds where he would let his guard down and he wasn’t being selfish or cold. It was fondness, softness, and something else, something he couldn’t pinpoint. It was something like what he felt when he was with Suga and Oikawa, when one of them would crack a stupid joke or make a funny noise. It was the feeling he got when his mom randomly called him to ask about his day or sent pictures of the sunset to him when she would go on her morning and afternoon walks. It was his grandma's green tea and Terushima’s reassurance that he wasn’t as bad a person as he thought he was. It was the feeling he got when his chest swelled with happiness and he could hear the blood rush in his ears, when he couldn’t hold off the goofy smile from tainting his lips. 

Bokuto was all the good, rare things Akaashi felt. He didn’t know how to form his thoughts correctly, but he could only describe it as a sort of warmness, the kind when the sun peeks out after it's rained all day. Yet, he had always felt that way. Ever since they were kids, and especially when they were in high school, but it was like a secret they kept to themselves they never dared to speak even to each other, only through soft gestures, knowing glances, and gentle touches. 

He thought -- suddenly -- that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. The way a lot of things with Bokuto weren’t so bad.

Akaashi hesitated before reaching out and putting a hand over Bokuto’s that was squeezing the sand beneath him. It tensed, then stilled and relaxed beneath his touch. Akaashi fiddled with Bokuto’s fingers, they were longer than his, the black polish he had was fresh, light imperfections at the sides and on his cuticles, where it was clear he had tried to fix it, and rough against his fingertips. 

Pretty. 

He leaned down slightly, bringing his hand to the side of Bokuto’s face where he hovered over him. His hair was down, still damp from the obvious shower he had just taken. He smelt like the cinnamon tea his mom had made earlier. Bokuto had a hand above the small of Akaashi’s back, but it was clear he was refraining from touching him. 

“It’s ok, you can touch me.”

Fingers pressed into the arch of his back, and he leaned down more, his curls falling onto Bokuto’s face and making him scrunch his nose at the ticklish feeling.

“Is this ok?” Akaashi asked.

“ _I_ should be the one asking _you_ that.”

"Well, I'm the one coming onto you now, aren't I?"

They were close now, closer than earlier. If one of them were to purse their lips forward it would be endgame. Akaashi’s hand was on Bokuto’s jaw now, a finger tilting his chin up slightly. Their noses were touching, and Akaashi’s mind was running a million miles a minute. 

Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about what could go wrong, or what was going to happen, how things would be tomorrow. But he couldn’t help it. What was the point of this? What was the goal? It’s not like Akaashi was emotionally available enough to be acting this way, but for once, he wanted to be selfish for a good reason. He wanted to indulge in Bokuto’s feelings and the way he felt about Bokuto and all the pent up-ness they had shared for years now. He didn’t want to think about what would happen, and if it was going to be awkward, or how the drive home would play out. He didn’t want to think about Kuroo and everyone else. 

For once, Akaashi was in the moment, in the most selfishly indulgent way he had ever experienced. 

It was Bokuto that leaned forward first. Their lips met, slotting together, and Akaashi had never felt anything like it. He had never experienced want without lust, but it was pure unadulterated desire, like they couldn’t get enough of each other, but not in the sense that they wanted to make things go further than they already were. This was ok, it was enough. Bokuto leaned up on one of his elbows and brought his hand up to Akaashi’s curls, pulling him in further. Akaashi tasted like smoke and the miso soup he had earlier, and Bokuto of cinnamon tea and some sort of sweet pastry. They parted momentarily to take in a gasp of air, a string of saliva keeping them together, then slotted their lips together again.

Their tongues found each other, colliding clumsily at first, swirling around each other, then settling into their respective places. It wasn’t dirty, or asking for more -- it was everything they had both wanted. It replaced the words they had wanted to say, or perhaps, the things they felt were still premature, too young to let become real by speaking them. They wanted to feel and taste as much of each other while they could, but it would never satisfy them. Akaashi was tugging Bokuto up now, so they were both sitting, legs tangled in each others. The sounds of their breathing and the waves crashing a few feet ahead filled their ears, and it all felt a little too good. 

Akaashi pulled away, only slightly, and saw as Bokuto’s eyes gleamed from the moonlight, downturned with softness. _Softness for Akaashi_. He flinched when Bokuto leaned down, pressing his lips to his nose momentarily, and was released, receiving a goofy smile from the older man. 

This was going to get a lot more complicated than Akaashi had probably thought of. 

But that was ok.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a _long_ time now,” Bokuto sighed, letting himself fall back onto the sand. Akaashi scoffed, bringing his knees to his chest to hide the blush in his face.

“I didn’t even know you liked guys,” Akaashi murmured, pressing a finger into the sand to keep his eyes away from the other. He felt nervous, giddy, the way he felt when the adrenaline in his body became too much from whatever stupid, impulsive thing he had done. 

“I don’t, not usually,” Bokuto pointed out, making Akaashi look at him with furrowed brows. He chuckled out a nervous laugh and watched curiously as Bokuto’s eyes darted across the sky. When they were children he knew everything about the stars, the constellations and whatnot. He’d always point them out to Akaashi, and though he never understood them the way Bokuto did, he appreciated them just as much. Because Bokuto liked them, so Akaashi did too. 

“Can we _please_ go back to your house, I need a shower so badly I could cry.”

“You’re still so dramatic.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Hey!”

“See? What did I say?”

They made their way to the truck, Akaashi putting a bit of distance between them this time, despite being able to tell Bokuto wanted to be closer. Akaashi didn’t know how to tell him he _really_ didn’t do these types of things. Sure, he has a lot of lovers, but it's been _years_ since he’s dated -- and, well, that didn’t end so well last time. It was something he was unconsciously afraid of -- that history would repeat. Relationships meant things were official, meaning getting angry was a more serious matter, and who knew what anger could lead to? 

Bokuto was by no means _him_ but it was still something that lingered in the back of Akaashi’s head. To go through something like that again would kill him. But also, the changing of titles and seriousness of it all scared him. Akaashi was so used to having so many partners at once, never getting to know one sole person to the fullest extent, and instead having half assed things with complicated titles and good sex. That was what everyone was, and never anything else. 

How do people even act in relationships? How do dates go? Or cohabiting? It was all a big jumble of questions in Akaashi’s head, and thinking more and more about it was making him nauseous. And all they did was kiss. That was it, nothing more.

But, except, it was more. 

It was so much more, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. He had never expected to meet Bokuto again, much less be in this type of situation with him. Prior to that night in Bokuto’s apartment, he had never thought that the feelings were mutual, that it was all one-sided. For years Akaashi had accepted that. He watched Bokuto have girlfriends in high school and never feel satisfied whenever Akaashi had a girlfriend or boyfriend. But he had never thought more of it. Until now, now he was overthinking everything.

Had this perhaps been Bokuto’s intention all along? To get them to a stage where Akaashi and him would have a relationship of a sexual nature. Akaashi sank slightly into the seat of Bokuto’s truck. What if all he saw him as was some whore? An easy lay? Maybe that was what he heard from Kuroo and Atsumu and he assumed he could score some easy ass by swooning him with easy sweet words and a trip to their hometown. The way Akaashi did to other men. If Akaashi had that mindset, then anyone could, right? It was entirely possible.

And yet, it wasn’t.

Not when he saw Bokuto catching sneaky glances at Akaashi and turning away with a smile. Or the way he played the station that Akaashi liked that played 80’s Japanese music. How he had the windows down, a hand sticking out, and was waiting for Akaashi to do the same because he knew he liked doing that. 

Bokuto had never been the kind of person to not have transparent intentions. Akaashi didn’t know his intentions yet, but he could tell they weren’t bad ones. 

Bokuto wasn’t a bad person. Bokuto wasn’t like Akaashi or _him_ or like his dad. 

They arrived at Bokuto’s house only a few minutes later, Akaashi awkwardly trudging his bag besides him. The feeling of knowing he was finally going to shower made a thousand waves of relief surge through him. He still felt the way he had at his parents house, when he went up to his room, full of anxiety and feelings of filth. He needed to scrub himself to rid himself of that feeling. _Maybe_ he’d feel better. But there was no telling, even the idea of coming back to his hometown had always made him feel filthy after. 

Bokuto led him to the room he would be staying in, the extra room that used to belong to one of his sisters. He already knew where the shower was, so Bokuto just told him he was welcome to use it. They shared a quiet ‘goodnight’ to each other, as his mother had already gone to bed, and Akaashi knew Bokuto wanted some sort of contact. Some sort of confirmation that what happened at the beach happened and that it mattered. But Akaashi didn’t have that to spare in him right now. The dull, dirty feeling in his chest was weighing him down like crazy and he didn’t seem to have it in him to pretend it didn’t. 

Once he was showered, the feeling didn’t go away. Not even when he was in fresh clothes and under fresh, clean sheets. It made him want to pick at his fingers, he could feel himself begin to shake with anxiety. He felt as if he had been dipped into a tub of _him_ , and the slick, oily feeling remained on his skin, like it had soaked into his pores and no amount of body wash or scrubbing could help. He had relapsed into his old habit he used to have of washing himself down three times, and having to physically stop himself from hopping back in the shower and doing it _another_ three times. It was something he hadn’t done in years. He was afraid it would follow him home, and that he wouldn’t feel clean in the safe space that was his apartment. 

_Dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty_. 

He tried his hardest to shake the bad, intrusive thoughts out of his head. Because a lot of _good_ happened today. He told his dad how he felt, as well as his mom, and he kissed _fucking Bokuto_. Little sixteen year old him would be jumping out of his skin with joy. But present him wasn’t. The weight he was feeling in his chest seemed to melt him against the mattress underneath him, and maybe it finally would, not that he minded. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It’d be better than feeling the way he did. 

And he thought about how he didn’t want to be alone. How if he kept being by himself, instead of scratching at his nails he’d regress to scratching at his skin to try and rid himself of the way he was feeling. He sat up from the bed, rubbing at his arms and sighed before grabbing his box of cigs and his lighter. He silently opened the door, careful to try and make the creaking not so loud by opening it slowly and slipping out as soon as the gap was big enough. 

Akaashi made his way to where he knew the back door leading to their backyard was, and almost felt his heart fall out his ass when he saw a figure sitting on the swing perched against the wall. It was Bokuto. 

“Hey,” his voice was soft. Akaashi felt he had walked in on something he wasn’t meant to see and he thought twice before sitting besides the older man, choosing to stuff the box he had been holding into the pocket of his sweatpants instead. 

“I thought you’d be asleep,” Bokuto murmured. His voice was beaten and raw from earlier, but held a tone Akaashi had grown all too familiar with in high school. Something was wrong. 

“Can't sleep. It’s hard being here,” Akaashi sighed, sneaking a glance at him. “Don’t you think?”

Bokuto suddenly rested his head on Akaashi’s shoulder, taking him aback, but he didn’t reject the contact nonetheless. He placed his chin on the top of his head, reveling in the scent of Bokuto’s fresh smelling shampoo. “It’s really hard being back here,” he said back. “All the house does is remind me of him, and it hurts.”

Akaashi wrapped an arm around Bokuto, sighing as he squeezed him closer. “I know, Bo.” Akaashi had never experienced loss the way it had touched Bokuto and his family. And he never fully understood how one was able to successfully comfort someone in a situation like this. What was he supposed to say? He always knew the right thing to say, but not right now, not in a situation like this. 

“I miss him.”

“I know he misses you guys too, especially your guys’ dog.”

That elicited a small chuckle from Bokuto, and as if on cue, the doggy door rustled and out came Momo. She was old and slower than before, but her tail wagged the same exact way it had when they got her all those years ago. 

“Dad loved that damn dog more than anybody,” Bokuto laughed, patting his thigh for Momo to come. She nestled her head into his lap, licking at his palm and was clearly fighting the urge to climb onto their laps based on her behind wagging so hard it looked like it was about to fall off. 

“I’m sure seeing her feels nice though,” Akaashi smiled, racking his fingers through her long hairs. 

“You know," he paused. "You make it not so bad being here,” Bokuto smiled, turning to Akaashi to shoot him one of the slyest smiles he had ever seen. He collected himself as fast as he had lost his composure and rubbed his arm gently. 

“You make it not so bad for me too,” Akaashi murmured back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little valentines day present from me to y'all!
> 
> i hope the kiss scene didn't feel too rushed or like it's too soon, but we're basically 20 chapters in so i feel it's been a PRETTY slow burn LMAO, this is only the beginning!
> 
> also the scene was totally based off some tik tok i saw where a group of friends yelled out their heavy ass issues into the ocean, it just seems so therapeutic idk???
> 
> let me know what y'all thought :)
> 
> \- L


	19. we fell in love in october

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for chapter: we fell in love in october - girl in red

Akaashi was at breakfast with his mother when Kuroo called him. Part of him wanted to think,  _ fuck him, I’m busy doing better things _ \-- and the other part of him, this new renowned Akaashi, missed their silly conversations. But the Akaashi that kissed Kuroo’s best friend on the beach last night also felt guilty, like the secret they held would be much more real. And talking to Kuroo would only make it worse. 

And so he excused himself from his mother, stepping outside the restaurant and bringing his phone up to his ear. 

“Hello?”

“Hey Akaashi, what are you up to? I came to your apartment for a surprise visit and you’re not here?” 

“Oh, uh yeah. I’m actually out of town with a friend, we came to see our families -- it’s my old hometown.”

“Oo, an impulsive trip I presume?” Kuroo asked, Akaashi could hear the telltale sign of traffic, he was probably walking back home. He kind of missed it. 

“Yeah,” Akaashi laughed nervously. “I didn’t really let anyone know, it was super last minute.”

“How is it? You having fun?”

“Well, it’s been eventful,” Akaashi chuckled lightly, kicking at a rock on the pavement. “It’s nice though, I’m happy I’m getting to see my mom again, it’s been a while.”

“And your dad?” 

Akaashi could feel his heart sink, the silence was held a little too long, only the hitch of his breath being heard at the mention of his father. 

“Too much?” Kuroo asked.

“Yeah,” Akaashi mumbled. He hated that he could already feel his mood souring at that, as well as the anger swell in his stomach at the fact that Kuroo brought it up. There was no way he could have known. Sure, they knew a bit more about each other, and Kuroo had an  _ idea  _ about Akaashi’s personal life, but Akaashi thought it still wasn’t enough to go asking unprecedented questions that may hold heavier weight.

_ It’s not his fault, he didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t snap.  _

“I’m fine though. I’m actually out having breakfast with my mom and B -- it’s really good. It’s, uh, a place owned by someone in my family.”

“Sounds good, bet it feels nice being back. Don’t let me hold you up then, yeah? Let me know when you’re back, I want to see you,” he could hear the softness in Kuroo’s usually rough voice, the smile too. 

Things between them were good, before the whole thing at the beach. But of course it was still a one-sided problem, the fact that Kuroo’s  _ friend  _ also was getting into the mix -- and Kuroo had not a single clue about it -- it was eating at the younger. Akaashi didn’t know if it was something Bokuto had thought about after his first little stunt in his apartment, but it was definitely something that had started biting at  _ Akaashi  _ after what happened at the beach the night before. 

Guilt was a rare feeling for him, it wasn’t something he’d come across at all really. Akaashi was never the kind to regret the things he did or said. Of course he would do things impulsively that maybe weren’t the best decisions, but he had always been a firm believer that people don’t do selfish things to wallow in pity later. They do things because they want to, because it feels good; someone like that -- like Akaashi doesn’t deserve to feel guilt or regret. 

Maybe he didn’t deserve to feel guilt about this.

But with it having to do with Bokuto, he couldn’t help but allow the soft side of him to shine through. Sure he liked Kuroo and all, not romantically of course, he was nice to have around -- but some part, deep down in Akaashi knew that if it was somebody else and not Bokuto caught in the middle of all this, he wouldn’t feel remorse at all. 

Because it was clear to Akaashi who was more important, who he actually cared about -- because he knew he would drop Kuroo in a heartbeat. But Bokuto could lose one of his closest friends.

That is of course, if any of this advances into something more. But Akaashi doubts it will. 

“Um, yeah. I’ll text you once I’m back, if I don’t forget.”

They said their goodbyes to each other, making Akaashi sigh in relief when the call ended. 

Everything was going to be different now, it was already complicated -- at least in Akaashi’s head -- and it was still only something Bokuto and Akaashi knew about. Akaashi knew better than to brush it off as some dumb little thing like all his other flings. Because it wasn’t like that at all. 

Akaashi wondered if Bokuto was thinking about all these things too, how he felt. 

That’s a problem for another day, Akaashi thought. He turned onto his heels and pushed the entrance open, being enveloped into the smell of ramen, fresh fish, and green tea -- sounds like an odd combo, but it all surprisingly meddled pretty well. 

He caught sight of Bokuto and his mother sharing a rather loud laugh, his mother’s hand clasped over her mouth to try and hide her smile -- the way Akaashi did -- and Bokuto with his arms crossed against his chest, chin high in the air as he let out his usual boisterous laugh. It brought a gentle smile onto Akaashi’s lips and he chuckled lightly as he sat down besides Bokuto, eyes darting between the two. He didn’t know what sight he enjoyed more, and so he took a sip of his tea to blame the warmness in the pit of his stomach on that instead of the heartwarming sight. 

Akaashi could never imagine bringing somebody else so deep into his personal life, so close to home. There were no boundaries being crossed here, even with Bokuto’s foot purposefully brushing against his every few seconds. It was so welcomed, inviting, and every good thing in between.

“Who was it sweetheart? Everything ok?” His mom turned to him suddenly, pulling him back into the moment. 

“Oh, it was just a friend from back home checking in on me,” he murmured, shuffling a mouthful of rice into his mouth in hopes of getting his mom to stop any further questions.

“Was it Koushi? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him,” she sighed, as if it was one of the most devastating things in the world. It made Akaashi scoff out a laugh and he crossed his legs, shaking his head. His mother excused herself and got up to use the restroom, leaving the two alone. 

“Was it Tetsuro?” Bokuto questioned, swirling the ice in his sweet tea around with his paper straw. He looked irritated— or something along those lines; it was odd. He had waited until they were alone to bring it up, too. 

“Um,” Akaashi started, feeling awkward all of a sudden, the tension at the booth was immeasurable all of a sudden. “Yeah, he stopped by my place to go see me, but obviously I’m not there.”

“Hm,” his brows raised in what could only be fake amusement, and it made Akaashi furrow his brows. 

“Does that bother you?” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning away from the booth to have a good view of Bokuto. 

“It shouldn’t, but it does,” he shrugged, sticking a piece of fish into his mouth. 

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.  _ Because _ ,” he smoothed out his shirt. “We have to talk about that soon, before it’s a problem.” 

Bokuto cocked a brow in confusion. Akaashi knew this wasn’t the place to talk about this, especially since it was his family’s business, but it was Bokuto who had brought it up, and Akaashi didn’t want to just shoot him down. “Why would it be a problem?”

“You know why.”

“Oh, right.” Bokuto’s shoulders slumped and he dropped his hands from his sweet tea, settling them on his lap instead. It made Akaashi want to reach out, to comfort him in some way. Akaashi brought his hand to Bokuto’s knee momentarily, gave it a light squeeze, and pulled his hand away quickly.

“You don’t need to worry about  _ me  _ though, we’ve known each other the longest, right? I won’t be going anywhere,” he gave him a small smile, and he could tell he had said the right thing. What he really meant to say was understood and that was all that mattered. Shortly after, Akaashi’s mother came back and they finished their meals with mild conversation, Bokuto and Akaashi walked his mother home, then they made their way towards Bokuto’s home. Because Bokuto had forgotten his phone and Akaashi his camera. 

“This reminds me a lot of when we were in high school,” Bokuto muttered, changing the song that they were listening to while sharing earbuds. 

“All we’re missing is your bike,” Akaashi snorted, tapping on the box in his pockets, and thought otherwise, because there were no nerves, though he expected there to be with it being just them two. 

Bokuto turned to him suddenly, making Akaashi flinch with a nervous chuckle, then realized what Bokuto was trying to get across. 

“No way, we are  _ not  _ built like high schoolers anymore, can you even --”

“ _ C’mon  _ Keiji,” his eyes were practically sparkling in anticipation for Akaashi to agree, and it made his knees weak. How could he say no now?

“Do you even have a working bike?” Akaashi pursed his lips to hold back the shit eating grin he knew would reveal itself if he didn’t hold back. Today was a totally different day, there were no nasty thoughts clouding his mind, everything was hitting just the way it should without any bad thoughts swirling with his feelings. 

_ Funny _ , considering he didn’t think this trip would be this good. Everything bad that happened yesterday wasn’t tainting his feelings the way Akaashi thought they would.

Probably because of Bokuto. 

“Unlike  _ someone _ , I actually come back here regularly so I  _ do  _ have a working bike here thank you very much.” Bokuto crossed his arms against his chest, and huffed out a defensive breath making Akaashi roll his eyes playfully. 

“We can ride it, but I don’t know Bo, we’re not kids anymore, will you be able to pull my weight?” Akaashi chuckled, bumping shoulders with Bokuto.

“Akaashi  _ please! _ Don’t you see I’m all  _ built  _ now? I’m  _ literally  _ a professional athlete!” He flexed cockily and it made Akaashi blush and look away. He didn’t usually get flustered, and part of him wanted to pull the  façade  he usually did, so he stuck his chin in the air, red cheeks and all and let out a loud  _ hmph _ . “Well, maybe I didn’t want to be rude and  _ stare _ .”

“You act like I’d mind.”

“Koutarou? Keiji?” 

Their gazes ripped away from each other and rested onto the man before them. His gray hair, deep set, hooded eyes were as homely as ever, smile lines adorning the sides of his mouth and eyes, and it made Akaashi’s heart melt. It had been so long since he had seen him. He was more hunched than before, curling in slightly on himself, but that didn’t stop him from sweeping the steps of the shop with a bright orange broom and a mismatched faded blue dustpan. 

“Good morning Sato-san,” Bokuto and Akaashi bowed.

“It’s been so long, come on in so I can give you two boys some meat buns!”

“Yes please!” Bokuto yelled, gently nudging Akaashi forward by a push to the small of his back for him to enter first. The two entered the shop, the familiar scent of menthol cigarettes hitting their noses. It looked almost the exact same, given that the little arcade game in the corner was gone. Bokuto and Akaashi were probably the only ones that played that damn game and were the only people in Shimoda sustaining the machine’s presence in the shop. 

Sato had disappeared into the back of the shop, and Akaashi couldn’t help the feeling of nostalgia running through his head. Bokuto being there heightened it even more and it only made the blood rush to Akaashi’s ears in happiness. It wasn’t often he felt like this, but when he did the feeling usually came and went, but he didn’t feel this would be going away anytime soon.

“How long has it been since you two have come here?” Sato appeared from the back rooms with two little paper bags in hand, making Akaashi’s mouth water.

“It’s my first time since my second year, about six years ago. But Bokuto comes here pretty often, no?” Akaashi turned to him. 

“I was last here not long ago, the only time I don’t really come round regularly is when it’s season,” his lips were pursed in thought, a finger comically on his chin as he thought. He was such a characterized person, Akaashi thought, features all so exaggerated yet so soft. “I try to come at least once every couple weeks though.”

“That’s right!” Sato exclaimed, waving his wrinkled hands in the air. “The town's pride and joy! Mr. Pro Volleyball here,” he gave Bokuto’s chest a punch, and Bokuto's splutter made Akaashi snort out a laugh. “What are you doing now Keiji? School?”

“Yes, I’m in my last year now at the University in Tokyo studying psychology to be a therapist.”

“That’s very good, I’m quite glad you two made it somewhere big, and are doing well I’m assuming. Do you two live together in the city?”

“O--oh no,” Bokuto stammered, rubbing the back of his head. “We’re just visiting together, but we don’t room together back in Tokyo,” Akaashi finished for Bokuto.

“Hm, I just assumed you would, you two have been attached at the hip since I could remember.” 

“That’s quite true. How’s your wife Sato-san?” Akaashi deterred the conversation in another direction, as he could tell it had taken Bokuto aback to have been asked something like that.

“Same old, always taking care of the grandkids, she’s in the back I believe.”

“I’m glad, hope you’re all doing good as well. We’ll be going now, we have some plans. But we’ll try and stop by again before we leave!” 

“Ah, don’t forget these,” he handed the two little brown bags to both of them and Akaashi wrapped his fingers around Bokuto’s wrist with his free hand, bowing before leaving and leading them out.

They ate their meat buns in a comfortable silence, reminiscing on the taste of their childhood, and sharing music once again as they made their way to Bokuto’s house. They were listening to Bokuto’s music this time — they had listened to Akaashi’s on the walk to his mothers house. Akaashi was surprised to learn Bokuto liked the type of music he did, somewhat mellow but the lyrics were what it was obviously about. They had planned on visiting Tsumekizaki Park, it was a place they used to go to a lot in high school -- and it was Akaashi that insisted on going despite being the one that wasn’t so fond of coming here in the first place. Though Bokuto didn’t need much convincing to go, he was more surprised that Akaashi wanted to do something of his own accord and was eager to be complicit. 

They got to Bokuto’s, and his mother was out by the telltale sign of her little minivan not being in its usual place. Akaashi was nervous -- though he wasn’t so sure why -- they had never been alone this long. And he couldn’t quite tell if the nervousness he was feeling was him  _ not  _ wanting anything to happen or  _ anticipating  _ it instead. He probably wouldn’t mind either though.

He had grabbed his film camera, letting the case dangle from his shoulder and exited the house, letting the flimsy screen door close behind him and leaned against the wall, sighing. He could hear Bokuto and his heavy steps thumping from upstairs. He probably lost his phone. 

And as if on cue, “Akaashi! Can you come up and help me find my phone?”

Akaashi snickered out a laugh, already having opened his contacts and hitting the call button, hoping he had his ringer on. “I see you still lose everything, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi chuckled as he came up the stairs, flinching when he crashed right into Bokuto’s chest as he rounded the corner into his room.

“And you’re still as clumsy,” Bokuto smiled, taking off the hands he had protectively placed on Akaashi’s arms. “Better than having to go on scavenger hunts for my things all the time,” Akaashi stuck his tongue out at him and Bokuto snickered, mocking him. 

He was quick to find Bokuto’s phone, under his made bed, and felt his heart soften when he saw the contact picture he had for him -- they were in middle school maybe, and it looked like it had been taken after some volleyball game, both with toothy grins and missing front teeth -- Akaashi was holding up a peace sign and Bokuto had his arms around his neck. 

_ Cute _ , Akaashi thought, feeling his ears go red as he handed the phone back to Bokuto.

The drive to Tsumekizaki Park was full of Bokuto pointing out all sorts of little locations where they shared memories. The schools they went to, the park down the road from where they lived, the arcade, the shop they would go to when Sato-san’s was closed. Akaashi had even snapped a photo of Bokuto when he was driving, sunglasses perched on his nose and a small smirk as he continued their drive. He thought Bokuto would share the fascination that was instant film cameras with him, and smiled dumbly to himself when Bokuto got excited as the photo developed slowly. 

They got there shortly after, the familiar sight of the lighthouse coming into view and the waves crashing against the cliffs at the bottom. This was one of the things Akaashi used to dream about after leaving here, it was a place untouched by the bad, and somewhere that grounded him back to earth when everything seemed to be going a million miles a minute. 

He was glad he still had this -- and that it was a moment he could share with Bokuto. He didn’t want to share it with anyone else, or have this with someone else. 

The two perched themselves on the bench that was facing the ocean, Bokuto extending an arm behind Akaashi -- which he chose to ignore -- and looked out at the body of water before him. He remembered their moments on the sand yesterday and the lifted feeling that resulted from them yelling out at the ocean. It was just another good memory attached to Shimoda, and Akaashi was glad of it. He’d hate to have had anything  _ else  _ bad attached to this place. Then he remembered their kiss, how it felt different from everyone else, yet it lingered among the feelings he felt for the other people in his life that he loved so much. It felt like a lot to unpack, but surprisingly, it wasn’t. It felt too good to be a burden -- except for Kuroo and all. 

“I think this is my favorite place ever,” Akaashi murmured, closing his eyes at the feeling of the wind making his hair wisp around. The air was different from the air in Tokyo, where sometimes it got so polluted it would make Akaashi cringe at all the smog. The air here was thinner -- they were in the mountains after all -- and crispier, so clean and fresh it made Akaashi want to be here forever. 

“I can tell, you don’t look like this at all when we’re in Tokyo.”

“Really?” Akaashi shot his eyes open and was met with Bokuto’s pretty honey ones. He nodded and Akaashi hummed, leaning back into the bench. He could feel Bokuto’s arm now, but it was ok, he didn’t mind the touch. 

“I thought you’d be on edge the whole time we’d be here, but I think you like it here better than back home.”

“I think I do, I just hate the memories attached to here,” Akaashi sighed, fiddling with the string of the bag of his camera. 

“We’ve made some pretty good ones here though, don’t you think?”

It took Akaashi back, how direct Bokuto was. He had always been this way though, so blunt and to the point. Akaashi had always envied him, how he was able to do it in an elegant way, without the sharpness it usually held when Akaashi was direct. They were the same, yet polar opposites. Bokuto so warm and Akaashi so cold -- and yet when they were together it was everything but in the middle. 

“I think we have.” Akaashi let himself indulge in his words, let Bokuto pull him as many steps closer as he wanted him. Because no one was here to say no, not even his intrusive thoughts that usually tainted every good memory with something bad. But not here, not now. 

It was Akaashi who moved first, him who leaned forward, him who was overcome with emotion. He wanted to tell himself that this wasn’t who he was, what he stood for. These weren’t his morals. He didn’t do these things, he didn’t kiss his friends or feel little flips in his stomach when he saw them. These weren’t the thoughts that usually floated around in his head. How pretty he was, how his eyes caught the sun just right and they looked like the rays of the sun reflecting off the walls of his apartment through the crannies of his blinds.

But Bokuto made those thoughts not so bad, just like he made everything else not so bad. 

And so Akaashi leaned forward, gripping Bokuto’s chin with a certain eagerness he wanted conveyed -- not as lust, but as the desire to simply want to be closer. To let Bokuto have him the way no one got to. It was too good of a feeling last night on the beach, and he wanted more, the way he wanted another cigarette or chased the elated feeling of adrenaline he got when he passed an exam. 

“Is this ok?” 

“Yes,” Bokuto breathed, the air tickled Akaashi’s lips with anticipation.

Then the feeling from last night burst within his chest when their lips connected. It would have been overwhelming had it not been for the grounding heat of the hand Bokuto placed on Akaashi’s neck, coaxing him closer, to not leave so soon. It could only be described as euphoric, the way you feel when you do something you’ve wanted to for so long but never had the guts to;  _ satisfying _ . They each pulled the other closer, not getting enough of their scents, tastes, and the feeling of being this close, being so intimate. It wasn’t something Akaashi had ever experienced himself, even after doing this simple mundane act with dozens and dozens of others. He wondered if Bokuto has. 

Last night it was short and sweet, the way you have just  _ one  _ drink despite wanting more, but you’re the designated driver. This time it was everything but that. Their tongues meddled with each others, getting to know the crevices of their mouths and letting themselves relish in the way they tasted together. Akaashi’s hand was in Bokuto’s hair now, and he could practically feel the whine stuck in his throat. Bokuto’s fingers and palm were rough against the thin skin of his neck, the callouses and ripped skin where his joints met made goosebumps pimple up his arms at the feeling. But he could feel himself wanting more than he had invited Bokuto in for and so he pulled away, but not fully. Their foreheads remained leaning against the others, catching their breaths with dumb smiles on their faces. 

“You know, Bokuto-san…” Akaashi pulled away now, feeling a mental barricade force it’s way between them. Like they realized that it happened again, it’s getting more real. “We do have to talk about this. What it means and how it’ll affect Kuroo.” 

Akaashi had never been one to hide his feelings, not anymore. That stopped a  _ long _ time ago, he liked things being out in the open and in a place where he didn’t have to question anything or not be transparent with the people in his life. 

Bokuto groaned and rubbed his face with his hands. “I know,” he sighed. “I’ve tried putting it off for a long time. But I knew it would be a problem as soon as I saw you the first time leaving Kuroo’s apartment.”

“Were these your intentions with me the whole time? You sly fox,” Akaashi playfully nudged Bokuto who chuckled glumly in response. 

“They really weren’t, I never had any inappropriate intentions — not that  _ this  _ is inappropriate,” he motioned between the two of them. Akaashi was glad they both didn’t see it as some lust filled motive. It made something blossom at the pit of his stomach. “I guess it’s just years of holding back, you know? Not that I knew I was holding anything back in high school, we were kids, I was dumb, I didn’t know what it was I felt until you were just… gone.”

It made Akaashi frown. To have had something in the palm of your hand just fly away without knowing what happened to it for over half a decade. It made his skin crawl. He wanted to take Bokuto’s face in his hands and apologize until the sun went down, comfort him and tell him he also didn’t stop thinking about him. That he felt the same way in high school but distracted himself with little flings, never letting any of them take the part of him he wanted Bokuto to have. But that wasn’t Akaashi’s place right now, the stage belonged to Bokuto right now. 

“But when I saw you with Kuroo… or even now, like when you mentioned he called you after we ate… it just  _ irks  _ me. And I hate it, I hate that I feel that way. He’s like a brother to me, and to know that — that  _ this  _ is happening, when you two have… whatever you have, it’s driving me crazy. Part of me is jealous because you’re with him and all these other people, but another part of me feels I can’t even feel that way.”

“You have every right to feel that way. I’d feel the same way if I was in your shoes, I think.” It was all hypothetical, of course. Akaashi never put himself in a position where he would feel jealousy. Except that one night with Terushima but that was something else. But he knew that if the roles were reversed, if Bokuto immersed himself with lovers, if Kuroo was Akaashi’s friend — he’d be torn. 

Then it dawned on him that Bokuto admitted to being jealous of that exact thing. He was jealous that other people had parts of Akaashi, that he was shared, and that he was also his friend's lover. 

“It’s no secret I see a lot of people,” Akaashi started, fiddling with his fingers. “I — I just think that it’s going to be hard for me to stop. I don’t know anything else, it’s something I’ve been doing for a couple years now, and I’m also pretty financially dependent on one of the people I’m seeing. I know it’s going to be a problem, and I won’t lie about that. But I want us to take this one step at a time, I can’t fumble all these things at once, I don’t want to hurt anyone or—or say the wrong thing.”

“It’s ok, just say what you think and we can go from there,” Bokuto’s smile was warm, inviting. Eyes downturned with softness, asking him to come forward again even more than he already was. 

To know that he wasn’t being bashed for the things he’s used to or shamed for not knowing how to do much else — it felt so  _ so  _ good. Sure, he got validation from people like Kuroo and Terushima, but not like this, not laced with the intimacy that Bokuto was weaving into it. 

“How do  _ you  _ feel Keiji? About all this?” 

_ Me. How do you feel about  _ **_me_ ** , was what he was really asking. 

It was a question that would usually scare him, one that would make him act out, blow up in people’s faces, and he probably would have stormed out if it wasn’t asked by Bokuto. But because it  _ was  _ Bokuto, he could feel his usual attitude shifting. Akaashi was all soft edges, the harshness that seemed permanent in his face and voice went away, and he couldn’t hold it back from his voice when he spoke. 

“I usually take a long time to figure out my feelings, but I think I already know and I think you know too.”

“I want to hear you say it though.”

Would it be so bad to be selfish in  _ this  _ way? To not consider the feelings of every other entanglement he had back in Tokyo for Akaashi and Bokuto’s sake? Or did he think it was ok because he wasn’t there? Akaashi wondered if he would still feel this way once they went back to the city, but mentally took it back just as the thought came -- because it just wasn’t true. He could tell it was his usual mindset trying to push everything away and he was consciously fighting it back and that this was  _ in fact  _ what he wanted. 

He thought back to high school, how even though it was so long ago, the feelings didn’t feel so far away. The discrete touches, doing things for each other they didn’t do for others, the feeling of comfort from just being in the others presence. At first it was purely platonic, but as Akaashi grew older and he saw the way his peers started dating and performing romantic acts for each other, he realized that the intimacy his peers shared was what he and Bokuto resembled as well. It wasn’t something that just snuck up on Akaashi one day, it was something he just slowly started to realize as time went on and he accepted it, but he didn’t act on it because he thought it was all one sided.

But it was now very clearly  _ not  _ one sided. 

It was a feeling that was somehow a separate entity, even after everything that happened, and after Akaashi let himself be ran through countless men and women. It held a space in his heart --  _ he  _ held a space in his heart, and not a lot of people or things usually did. So, it made him not so scared to let Bokuto hear what he wanted to hear, because it was true. It was how he feels and it was how he’s felt all these years. Nothing could taint that. 

Akaashi wanted Bokuto to know, because Akaashi also wanted to know.

  
  


“I feel the same way about you Koutarou, I always have.” 

The words weren’t bitter the way they were when he spoke his truth to Kiyoko or Kuroo or his dad. They didn’t leave a nasty aftertaste the way binge drinking tasted the next day. He didn’t have any second thoughts. His feelings were there out in the open, and he didn’t mind. Not this time. 

The warmness was coming back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the delayed chapter! i've had a couple of guests over for a few days as well as some pretty bad writers block, but i'm back on track! this chapter was soo nice to write, i've always enjoyed writing out people's feelings instead of the physical stuff (incase you couldn't tell LMAO) so this was nice and refreshing, lmk what you guys think! :)


	20. Won't Live Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of sexual assault
> 
> song for chapter: Won't Live Here - Daniel Caesar

Akaashi and Bokuto spent most of the day together. They ended up ditching the truck back at Bokuto’s house and walking around the downtown area, going into little thrift shops, the museum, and getting some ramen at some place Bokuto swore was the best. Akaashi thought the ramen was better in Tokyo, but he let Bokuto have his little victory. 

It was Saturday night now though, and they’d be leaving tomorrow after breakfast. There were still loose ends that needed to be tied here though. Bokuto’s gentleness reminded Akaashi that he couldn’t leave here on such a bad note. 

“You’ll be ok?”

“ _ Yes _ , now stop worrying, you’re starting to sound like my mom,” Akaashi sighed, nudging Bokuto’s side with his. 

“I’d take offense to that, but your mom is too sweet. Tell her I said hi  _ and _ ,” he brought his palm to the small of Akaashi’s waist, his other coming to graze along the curve of his face. “I kinda gathered from that night on the beach that some stuff went down with your dad. If you want to talk about it we can, and if you don’t want to that’s ok too. If you need me or  _ anything  _ I’m here -- I know I’m probably getting annoying saying it so much but --”

“You’re  _ not  _ annoying Bokuto, I appreciate you worrying about me so much,” Akaashi had a hand now over Bokuto’s bigger one, smiling up fondly at him. “If I’m up for it maybe we can talk about it when I get back. I just can’t leave things the way they are, no matter how much I don’t like him, you know?”

Bokuto nodded understandingly and so they said their goodbyes, Akaashi going on yet  _ another  _ walk to his parent’s home. He knew his mom was going to be out, and he assumed his father was home as it was the weekend Akaashi didn’t want her to be there for this, he had no idea how it was going to go -- and he wasn’t so sure what to expect out of all this either.

There had to be a reason, right?

Something had to have happened to his father for him to be this way with Akaashi, to dislike him so much, send him away, and still have the ability to say such uncalled for things when Akaashi had never done anything to deserve it. 

When he passed by Sato-san’s shop, he stopped in to buy a pack of cigarettes quickly -- his wife was tending the shop thankfully so he wasn’t held back by conservation. And so he continued on his way, pressing one to his lips and inhaling as soon as he had it lit. This wasn’t enough to relax him, not this time. 

The conversation he was preparing himself to have with his father wasn’t something he had anticipated ever having with him, and Akaashi wasn’t even sure if this was something his father was going to be willing to give to him. Maybe it was too much to ask for, maybe he  _ did  _ do something, maybe he didn’t  _ deserve  _ to be given a reason. Maybe it was just  _ Akaashi  _ that was unlovable. It was clear that other people saw him as meaningless enough to fuck up and toss aside like a worthless pest. 

It was all he’s been taught by the men who were  _ supposed  _ to hold important roles in Akaashi’s life. It was all he knew. 

It was degrading. 

He could feel the tears of embarrassment pooling at the corners of his eyes and blinked them back quickly. This was no time to feel pity for himself, there was no room for that. This was about his  _ dad  _ right now. 

Falling asleep last night was so rough -- not because of the icky feeling on his skin, but because of the unconscious guilt he felt for what he did. He didn’t allow any room for discussion, didn’t let him speak. He simply said his piece, dusted some stabbing words at the end, and left before even giving his father the chance to defend himself. It reminded Akaashi a lot of the argument he had with Kuroo all those weeks ago; he had felt so  _ dirty  _ but in a different way -- the way someone who never had the chance to repent for their sins probably felt. 

_ Guilty, evil _ .

He didn’t want to feel like that again. It felt so good but weighed him down by how bad it also felt. Akaashi had always indulged in the feelings he felt deeply, because they so rarely occurred and so he felt he should embrace them no matter what form they came in. But clearly, this was not a good thing to become. He didn’t want to hurt the people he cared about. 

Maybe his father wasn’t somebody he cared about, but that didn’t mean he didn’t deserve to at least be heard out. He deserved to be listened to, no matter the damage he’s caused to Akaashi personally. 

Akaashi couldn’t help but wonder if this was just his inner child still seeking out for some sort of validation from him, unconsciously trying to beg for his love. Or maybe this was the new, matured Akaashi -- the one that became friends with Kuroo and spent the night in the same bed as Terushima. It was hard to keep on track with those sorts of new developments that bubbled within him, especially with his father who he had simply accepted his resentment for. 

But was he _really_ the villain here?

Was there somebody or something else to blame for why he was the way that he is?

It made Akaashi think of himself, how he was also like his father -- but in a different way. They were both cold and curt and said things the way they were. The only difference between them though was that Akaashi kept that part of himself separate from his friends and family. It was something his father never had the audacity to do, even when Akaashi was going through everything after he was assaulted. 

He decided that no matter the reason there would still be a grudge held against his father at some degree. Because even if he did have a reason, just like Akaashi, his trauma didn’t excuse the bad parts of him.

Akaashi made his way up the steps of the porch and knocked on the front door firmly. He took the last drag of his cigarette and let it fall to the floor and put it out. 

_ This is going to go bad _ , he thought,  _ this is going to send you over the edge, is he worth it? _

The door creaked open. “Oh, Keiji.”

“We have to talk about yesterday.”

His father was staring at him dumbfoundedly, like he was the last person he expected.

“Your mother isn’t here.”

“I know. This is just for you and I,” he pushed past him and made his way towards the kitchen where he sat at the table with crossed arms as he leaned back in the seat, waiting for his father to join him. He would have sat in the living room but he wanted space between them and somewhere to hide his hands because he knew he would start picking at them.

“Keiji…” He was sat at the table now, eyes downturned with sadness or… guilt perhaps? It was an emotion that Akaashi had never seen his father express before. 

“Did I do something to make you dislike me so much?” His voice was small now, no longer matching the confidence he had when conjuring up scenarios of how this would go. His father never failed to make him feel small, like a child. “I-is there even a reason? Or is it just because I’m me?”

“No, there’s nothing wrong with you. It was never my intention to make you feel as though something was wrong with you… or that I don’t love you.”

“Then… then why? Do you have any idea how much this has affected me throughout my whole life?  _ Especially  _ after what happened. Why did you push me out of the house?”

He was reminded of the conversation they shared shortly after. How his father had softened his features on purpose, to make sixteen year old him feel as though he was doing it out of pity and then realized soon after it was just to convince him that it was for the better. It wasn’t. No matter how much Akaashi said it was. He would have gotten over his fear of being in his room and sleeping by himself eventually, but he was never even given the chance. 

“I… I guess I just never got used to having a child, taking you into account.”

_ What? _

He continued. “I don’t know how to say this and I’m not sure if you’ll understand but… your mother was all I had. It was just us for so long, all we had was each other because… well, you know how your grandpa is.”

“No, I don’t. What do you mean? How was he?” Akaashi asked.

“Well, he just wasn’t the best dad. I’m not like your aunt and uncle, I never liked or cared for school and that’s obvious in the career that I have now compared to them.”

What does this have to do with Akaashi? What did this have to do with what he asked or with  _ anything _ ? He was trying his best to keep his temper in check, but it was wearing thin. 

“What I’m trying to say is… I didn’t have the best dad either. Your uncle and aunt weren’t figures I looked up to either because they wanted to impress your grandpa so hard that it was like I didn’t exist. And so when I met your mom, it was the first taste of kindness I had my whole life and… as selfish as it was, I guess I just wanted her for myself. And so when you were born I guess I just had this sort of… resentment.”

It made sense, but it didn’t feel like enough. There had to be more.

“So… what you’re saying is that you got upset that you had to share mom after I was born?”

His dad swirled his thumbs in his cupped hands, his gaze was settled on them and he was avoiding Akaashi’s gaze religiously.

“Is that really it?”

He didn’t say anything and it began to make Akaashi nervous. He didn’t know if he was prying too deeply now and it made his skin crawl. The skin at the curves of his nails were raw, on the verge of leaking blood with how hard he was picking and poking at them. 

But Akaashi knew that look. The glazed over eyes and sewn together brows, the glint of embarrassment and quivering lip.

“Did he do something to you when you were younger dad?”

“What? No, my dad -- he -- you… you don’t do that to your kids. I -- you’re not supposed to, he --”

Akaashi pursed his lips. He hadn’t mentioned a specific person, so it was clear that he was right. And his dad had caught on to that fact too. He had said something that he hadn’t meant to and all Akaashi could do was look at him with sad eyes and a churning stomach.

It all made sense now. How else could he have learned to be a good father figure when he never had that himself? It was so obviously clear now that Akaashi was surprised he had never noticed before. He was probably upset or jealous that when Akaashi got assaulted he was getting the support he never got from his parental figure, because  _ he  _ was the one doing it to him. He never had his mother to defend him or support him the way Akaashi did. Even before all of that, of course he would be defensive of his mother -- she really  _ was  _ all he had. 

“It’s ok… you can tell me,” Akaashi reached out his hands to his dad for him to grab onto them. They were shaking, and Akaashi swallowed back the urge to let out a cry when he noticed his dad’s hands were trembling as well when they came to reach for Akaashi’s. 

“I don’t like talking about it, so I won’t go into it.”

“That’s ok.”

“But… he  _ really  _ wasn’t a good dad and my siblings weren’t good siblings either. They knew but everybody kept quiet because he was the provider and caregiver after my mother died, there was no second person to run to. I guess I let him still have power over me, even when I left and started my own family. Your mother was the first person I ever told, it was why we left our hometown as soon as we could and came here… but it obviously followed me here. Even after all these years.”

And suddenly, Akaashi realized just how much he and his father were actually alike. In so,  _ so  _ many ways. 

This was the most Akaashi had ever heard his father talk about himself in his  _ entire  _ life. It saddened him to think that there was a permanent wedge between them because of something that had been haunting him for years. He probably felt he couldn’t, because Akaashi had already felt that generational gap not permitting himself not to talk about what happened to  _ him _ \-- he couldn’t even imagine how long his father had held this in for, given the time it had taken place. No therapists, no mental help, no case, nothing. It was probably so ingrained into his head that  _ that  _ was the norm. That would explain all the remarks he would make about what happened to Akaashi. It’s what he grew up thinking was right. 

“I understand now,” Akaashi gave his hands a squeeze and pulled them away from his grasp, going back to shoving his nails into his cuticles under the table. His leg bounced feverishly as he psyched himself up to say what he wanted to. “I want you to know that I don’t blame you for who your dad made you become. I hope you don’t  _ really  _ feel the way you do when you make remarks about me, I’m sure those were all things ingrained into you by him and the things he did. You’re coping, it’s only natural you’re acting this way.”

His dad was looking down at the table again, eyes downcast on the floor in clear embarrassment. It seemed to be a different type of humiliation, one Akaashi would never know. Akaashi was raped by an ex-boyfriend, someone that didn’t hold the same heaviness as it did with his dad’s father. It was the mortification of being their child and having his body violated by a man he would never see in that nature as his family  _ and  _ as a straight man. 

“I know you and I are from a different generation, and I can’t speak much on yours because I didn’t live it and I’m not you. But dad, the harsh reality is that it was  _ your  _ responsibility to heal from this, even though it wasn’t your fault. _Especially_ after deciding to start a family.”

Akaashi thought he would react the way that he had when it was said to him by Suga, but instead he kept his gaze where it had been for almost the entire duration of their conversation. As if Akaashi were scolding him. 

“Because I was the same way,” Akaashi suddenly said, softness tinging his voice as he remembered his conversation with his friend and Kuroo. “After I moved to Tokyo I was nothing but harsh to the people around me because I was scared and defensive and I hadn’t given myself the proper resources or time to make sure that I would be ok. And I want that for you too. I want you to be able to say that life isn’t so bad.” 

_ I want to have a real dad _ , was what he wanted to say. It physically hurt to bite those words back, but that was a responsibility that shouldn’t be forced onto him, it’s something his dad should  _ want  _ to do on his own. 

“I think it’s a bit late for that.”

“I don’t think it is. I think you’re making excuses so that you can keep being this way because it’s what you’re used to.” There was no harshness in his voice, he didn’t want to fight, but he wanted to tell him how it was. There was no point in weaving around the obvious truth when they were here after all. “Dad,  _ I  _ will find you a therapist. I’ll look as long as you want me to. I -- I know what I said the other night was harsh, but this changes things. If you want to get help, I’ll stay in your life. But  _ you  _ have to  _ want  _ to -- don’t go doing it because of what I just said either. It’ll be artificial and I want you to do this because you want help and also… want me in your life, but not because I want you in mine.”

Silence blanketed over them for a long time, his father’s eyes remained on the floor, until suddenly they weren’t and he looked up at his son for the first time that night in his eyes. 

“Ok, I’ll do it. For me  _ and  _ for you.”

_______________

  
  


Akaashi was sitting on the steps of the Bokuto family’s home, yet another cigarette in between his lips. His cheeks felt crusty with the tears dried along them, but he didn’t quite have the energy to wipe them away. 

Something about getting this type of closure, knowing that it was nothing wrong with him, knowing that it wasn’t his fault. It felt so good, he could feel tears of relief pooling in his eyes and they began falling in no time. He let out a quiet sob as he brought his knees to his chest, not in despair, but to contain his happiness from making him jump with joy. 

And when he felt his familiar heat next to him on the steps and an arm wrap around his waist, they didn’t stop either. Akaashi let him hold him close, let their body heats mingle the way they have so many times during this trip of theirs and let a hand wrap around his neck with his face crammed between the space of his shoulder and collarbone met. 

It wasn’t too intimate, it was just right, just what he needed.

Bokuto didn’t have to say anything, he knew not to, and Akaashi thanked him by reciprocating his touch, hiccupping with the tears soaking his shirt, but a smile was on his face.

“I’m finally going to have a real dad Koutarou,” his voice was barely above a whisper, enough for it not to break. It made Bokuto squeeze him and pull him closer. A kiss was pressed to the top of his head and he sighed, taking a deep breath in. 

“It’s what you deserve, I’m so happy for you Keiji,” he said. 

Akaashi suddenly realized he didn’t want anyone else to be holding him like this, seeing him like this, or having Akaashi like this at all.

And so he told him everything, every single little detail; all the remarks, how his father made him leave the house, the argument from yesterday, and what his dad’s father had done to him. By the time Akaashi was finished the sun had set beautifully before them, contrasting with the talk going on. Sometime between that, Bokuto’s mother had wordlessly dropped in and brought them a blanket and two cups of tea in ceramic mugs with cute characters on them, leaving with a small pat to Akaashi’s head and disappearing back into her home. Bokuto listened, nodding, and bringing Akaashi closer when the talk got too heavy and he wanted to help Akaashi with some of the weight. 

It was all he could do, because Akaashi didn’t want comforting words, he just wanted Bokuto to listen, to know this part of him, to know why he agreed to come, and why he was the way he was. It had been years since he had told somebody new about these parts of himself and actually felt comfortable doing so. Of course, a lot of it was partly due to them having been friends for so many years prior, but now it was with a different intimacy.

It was something he had pushed himself to do, because despite wanting to, that didn’t mean there was the complete absence of hesitance. Akaashi was fighting against every fiber of his being to keep speaking, but he wanted to for Bokuto’s sake. The touches they shared and knowing looks came with slight awkwardness, but Akaashi still wanted it all. It was just in a way he wasn’t used to, not just because he didn’t reach this level of intimacy with people, but because Bokuto was also his friend. Someone he has known all his life, had around his family, and grew up with. 

He never thought they would be in a position like this, where longing gazes and the touching of skin shared the same heat between them both. And he was happy, he was happy this trip had brought them closer and he was glad that they would go back to Tokyo in a different light.

But then, that brought up the problem of everybody else once again. 

However, it wasn’t something clouding his mind overwhelmingly with Bokuto’s heat and familiar scent besides him. He had forgotten shower toiletries and so he smelt like Akaashi, and he didn’t know how to explain it, but it left Akaashi with the warmest feeling in his chest. 

“I’m happy you brought me here, Bokuto.”

“Me too, Keiji.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit of a short chapter, but a VERY important one! i hope you guys enjoyed it, even though i feel it's a bit rushed and not v heavy w detail, but i think that in moments like these your mind isn't really processing and thinking everything through thoroughly, at least in personal experience. share your thoughts in the comments w me! :)


	21. Kevin's Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for chapter: Kevin's Heart - J. Cole

“Suna, how did you know that you wanted to be with Atsumu?”

They were laying in Akaashi’s bed, sharing a cigarette. Suna’s waist was draped in Akaashi’s yellow cotton sheets and the music playing from the kitchen was audible through the bedroom door that was ajar. Akaashi could see the tan lines on his own arms mimicking the shape of the shirts he had worn while in Shimoda and Suna was bathed prettily in the sunlight coming from past the blinds. He was still catching his breath slightly when Akaashi passed the cigarette to him, but he took it with an arched brow. 

“Why are you asking me?”

“I’m curious.”

“I’m probably not the best person to be asking about these types of things. I mean, look where I am right now.”

“You’re probably the best person to ask though, don’t you think?” Akaashi leaned his weight on his elbow as he turned slightly to his side. It was true though, after all. Suna and Atsumu managed to have a healthy relationship even with Akaashi in the picture. There was never once a time that things seemed off between them, and their dynamic was like nothing Akaashi had ever seen before. He wanted to know what it felt like, to be shared, yet still have one sole person that you love. 

“I guess we do have a nice way of doing things huh?” He chuckled out a raspy laugh, smoke exhaling from both his nose and mouth. “We’ve known each other a long time, since middle school,” his pretty green eyes seemed to search the ceiling for his memories, like he had stored them and kept them there for moments like these. It was as though he was pulling a book from a shelf and was reminiscing on the words on the pages. “We just did everything together. And one day it all just clicked. Things weren’t as platonic as I thought and I brought it up and we just went from there, you know? Obviously there’s been changes here and there -- like you. But they’re all things we do and try because we just trust each other that much. And I think that was when I knew it was him, I couldn’t imagine myself doing these types of things with or sharing this life with anybody else.”

“Have you two ever had problems over what we have? Having an extra person in the equation has never posed any issues?”

It was very obviously getting personal, and Suna couldn’t hide the amusement on his face much longer -- Akaashi was having a pretty rough time trying to keep asking and pushing his pride aside. But the need to ask overcame his ego and so he ignored Suna’s expression. He took the cigarette from Suna and inhaled. 

“We established our boundaries before we ever tried anything. These types of things are usually pretty tricky for couples to figure out, but -- well  _ I  _ feel secure with everything and so does 'Tsumu. I let you see him without me there and vice versa. Obviously we got lucky with you though because you have the same boundaries as us.”

Akaashi sighed. Maybe Suna wasn’t the right person to be asking these types of things to after all. Their relationship was so nice and shiny and they knew what they wanted. It wasn’t comparable to Akaashi and Bokuto whatsoever. Because although Akaashi knew that him and Bokuto definitely had  _ something  _ going on, he didn’t know if it was enough to let go of this part of his life.

“Is there someone making you question the relationships you have?” Suna asked, but there was no teasing in his voice now the way it was drenched in his eyes just a moment ago. 

“Yes,” Akaashi sighed. He and Suna didn’t usually have conversations like these for the simple fact that they weren’t as emotionally involved with each other the way Akaashi was with people like Kuroo and Terushima. “It’s just hard though. Because I haven’t dated in years and this guy is just  _ so  _ understanding, even though I know he doesn’t like me being involved with other people he’s letting me take my sweet time to figure things out. I don’t even know if I’d be able to function if I didn’t have my flings though, you know? It’s like I’m addicted.”

“Well, think about it ‘Kaashi,” he was sitting up now, legs crossed. His movement wafted their mixed scents straight into Akaashi’s face. “Is this something you’d be ok with  _ him  _ doing if you guys  _ were  _ an official thing?”

Akaashi bit his lip in thought and groaned when he let himself drop fully onto his mattress.

“No, I wouldn’t be ok with it. But, like,  _ why _ ? Why can’t it just be like what you and Atsumu have? Why isn’t that consistent with how  _ I  _ want my partners to see me?”

“You just don’t want to share him. And that's ok. The difference between this guy and all your little boyfriends is that you  _ actually  _ care about him and have an emotional attachment to him. It’s called  _ possessiveness  _ Akaashi.”

Akaashi furrowed his brows in confusion. Had he ever felt that before? Jealousy, yes, but possessiveness? Never. It was odd to experience a new feeling at the ripe age of twenty-four. 

“I guess so,” he shrugged, rolling over and letting his legs dangle from his bed. He pulled his briefs on and groaned as he stretched, hearing the satisfying pops of his joints as he did so. 

“Is this like an eviction notice from being able to fuck you?”

“Maybe.”

“How sad.”

“Oh shut up,” Akaashi chuckled, settling back down on the bed. Suna was lying back down now, clearly in thought as he sucked on the last bit of tobacco. 

“This guy is definitely something if he has you questioning this. I never thought I’d see the day where you were thinking of dropping your boyfriends.”

“Me either,” Akaashi sighed and mirrored Suna, lying on his back and looking up at himself through the mirror on his ceiling. It was odd,  _ all  _ of this was odd. He was questioning dropping everybody for Bokuto, but as soon as he got the chance he went and called Suna. It felt like a nasty habit he couldn’t drop; like picking at his fingers or smoking. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop, or maybe one day he’ll just get consumed by it all. 

Technically, Akaashi and Bokuto hadn’t specified what they were, so Akaashi still was able to do this. But was this  _ morally  _ correct? He would definitely be upset if the roles were reversed, but it’s hard to imagine a reality where he didn’t run to Terushima or Suna or Ushijima whenever he got the chance. 

“It’s kind of scary,” he thought out loud. “It’s so overwhelming because I’ve never felt like this about anyone -- it’s just always been him since high school you know? I never thought I’d stop this because I like doing it so much. But I don’t want to share him and I don’t want him to share me either -- if it were to actually be something I would want it to just be  _ us _ .”

Suna laughed lightly as he turned to his side, facing Akaashi with his pretty hooded eyes. “When did you start thinking stupid sappy things like that Akaashi?”

_______________

  
  


“Alright, I’ve held out long enough Keiji, what the hell is up your ass?” Oikawa had a hand on his hip and his notepad in the other scribbled on with his pretty cursive. 

“I already told you it’s nothing,” Akaashi wiped down the counter by the register to deter his gaze from Oikawa.

“Mmm, no it’s something alright,” Suga turned up from out the backroom, immediately jumping into the conversation making Akaashi roll his eyes. They were gonna get it out him  _ for sure  _ now. 

The bells of the shop rang, signifying the entrance of a customer. Akaashi wasn’t sure if he felt relieved or mortified when he saw an all too familiar head of blonde hair entering the shop, shooting the three employees a charming smile before he took his seat at his usual spot in the café. 

“Would you look at that? Duty calls ladies,” he scurried off, but not without getting his apron tugged on by Oikawa and receiving one of the  _ deadliest  _ looks he’s ever gotten from him. Breaking free, he immediately fast walked towards Terushima, shooting him a bashful smile when they made eye contact. It was almost closing time, the usual time he came in. There was only one other table occupied, a couple drinking tea and having a pastry. 

_ How cheesy _ , Akaashi thought.

He sat across from the older man, who watched his every move as he sat down with a sigh. “Did you do something to piss off your friends?” Terushima snorted, leaning back in his seat. Akaashi cocked a brow at him and his outfit -- it was even  _ more  _ casual than that other time he had come in. With a flannel over a black tee and jeans.  _ Jeans _ . Akaashi had never seen him in blue jeans, it was weird. 

“Yes, but, that’s a problem for later,” he waved off, leaning forward on the table with his arms crossed and a sly smile tainting his lips. “Now, are you actually going to get something this time or are you just going to stare at my pretty face?” 

“The latter.”

Akaashi scoffed and rolled his eyes, motioning for Suga to get him his usual drink. His friend rolled his eyes, but Akaashi watched as he grabbed a mug and went to get him his black tea anyways. 

“Where did you disappear off to this weekend?” His eyes held curiosity, bags a little more prominent than usual making Akaashi worry — but only a little.

“Shimoda, with… an old friend of mine.”

“You don’t usually take trips with friends -- thank you Suga-san,” he smiled politely at Suga when he set his mug on the table between the two and went back to sharing gazes with the curly haired man in front of him. 

“You’re right, I don’t go on trips like that with friends. Especially to my hometown,” he grabbed Terushima’s mug and took a sip of the drink. He didn’t think they’d be talking about it already, and  _ here _ . But oh well. 

“A new toy?”

“He’s not, actually. You think I’d take a toy to go see my family?” He snorted, taking another sip of his tea and motioning for him to take one too. “Koushi put too much sugar in it and you don’t like it with it, try it,” Terushima scrunched his nose, but shrugged it off. Akaashi assumed Suga did it on purpose. 

“Is this your way of telling me we will stop seeing each other soon?” Terushima’s lips were pursed. Akaashi didn’t think he wouldn’t be affected by his absence to come, this was what he had expected. Akaashi was his first partner, the first person he treated to luxuries and showered with money, took on trips out of Japan, and did simple mundane things with after his divorce with his wife a few years back. They did everything he and his ex-wife never did. 

And now he was leaving. 

“I think so, Terushima,” Akaashi sighed. “It’s in our contract that either of us can decide to stop this whenever we’d like, but I know you know that.  _ However _ , we do need to talk about the financial business. Not here though, and not now.”

Akaashi couldn’t help but notice how Terushima began tugging at the collar of his flannel, something he did when he was nervous or annoyed. He was nervous right now, given by the way the table was shaking from the bouncing of his right leg. 

“Well, you know I’ve always told you I don’t want any of the things I’ve purchased for you back if we were to stop seeing each other. Whether I continue paying your rent and utilities and your weekly allowance is up to you, however, I would prefer that you’d let me, I want to.”

“That’s something I’d have to discuss with Bokuto. I don’t know if he’d be comfortable with another man paying for my apartment and giving me money.”

Terushima looked disgruntled, brows furrowed in a way Akaashi only saw when a business negotiation went south or he was having problems with legal stuff. The tension in the air was thick, Akaashi felt as though he could drown in it. He swallowed roughly, and held his hands out for Terushima on the table. The older man sighed and took them, twirling the ring around Akaashi’s finger. 

Terushima remembered how it was the first big purchase Akaashi made after he started giving him money weekly;  _ to cure a bad habit _ , Akaashi had said. 

“You just keep on surprising me,” Terushima chuckled, running his fingers over the bony knuckles of Akaashi’s pretty hands. “Well, I’m quite glad you’ve found someone you’re serious about. I won’t lie and say I won’t miss what we have, but seeing your development has been a pleasure.”

Akaashi smiled softly at the blonde across from him, giving his hands a light squeeze. “I’m glad you’re being understanding about all this, it means a lot to me. I hope you can be patient with this whole thing, it’s weird for me too. You know how I am, it’s not something I’m used to either.” 

Akaashi withdrew his hands from Terushima’s, feeling it to be too much now, and settled them in his lap. 

“I guess it wouldn’t be appropriate to ask to have a go one more time… right?”

He wanted to say yes, so bad. Akaashi thought he looked so good in his casual attire, and he knew for a fact that Terushima rode in his motorcycle today, given by the view of it contrasting prettily under the streetlights outside. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying what he wanted to and instead shook his head. 

“You can come over so we can talk once I’m done with my shift, but no sex.” 

“Alright sweetheart,” he smiled cockily, aware that Akaashi was having a rough time saying no. He stood from his seat in the booth, his helmet in his hand, only making Akaashi swallow hard. “Is it ok if I meet you there or you want me to wait so you can ride with me?”

Akaashi took a moment. He was asking something else, and he knew it. And Terushima knew that he knew. 

_ Do you want to wait to go talk or leave as soon as possible so I can fuck your brains out _ , was what he really meant. 

“You can meet me there,” Akaashi said curtly, grabbing the blonde’s mug and turning on his heel towards his friends behind the counter. “We close in ten, so I’ll be there in fifteen.”

He didn’t turn until he heard the bells of the door chiming against the door frame, signifying he had left and let out a sigh. 

“Alright what the fuck was that?” Oikawa asked, leaning on the counter with a cocked brow. Suga was standing next to him with a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

“So he’s going to drop Terushima… meaning that he’s going to drop everyone else -- because why would he just drop Terushima without a reason? That means it would apply to all his boyfriends.”

“Oh, so you were eavesdropping is what I’m hearing,” Akaashi crossed his arms after setting the mug into the bin of dirty dishes hidden behind the counter. 

“And you went to Shimoda… with an ‘old friend.’ The only person I know of that’s from there is Suga and you obviously didn’t go with him…” Oikawa added, beginning to connect the dots. “Meaning you went with Bokuto!” Suga and Oikawa gasped in unison, the gray haired man bringing his hands to cover his mouth in shock. “You little  _ shit _ ! And you didn’t think to tell us? Oh my god, what happened? Are you dropping them all for Bokuto?!”

“Jeez, well I guess there’s nothing to explain then, is there?!” Akaashi exclaimed defensively, but he could feel his cheeks and ears tinting red and so he huffed out a breath. 

“Wait, so then why is he going to your apartment?” Oikawa asked, a finger pressed to his chin pressed in curiosity before Suga smacked the back of his head. “Well to get dicked down of course! Which I don’t approve of by the way. Explain yourself because I  _ will  _ put you in your place if you’re in the wrong here.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes at Suga and hopped up on the counter to have a seat, keeping his eyes on his dangling feet. “I’m not going to have sex with him, if you guys really  _ were  _ listening you’d know. We’re just going to… talk out the financial stuff. He wants to keep paying my bills and giving me money and stuff but… I don’t think Bokuto would like that -- Jesus Christ what’s  _ wrong  _ with you!” Akaashi hissed after having received a hard smack to his bicep. 

“So you  _ are  _ with Bokuto? Dude c’mon  _ tell us _ . What happened in Shimoda?” There were practically sparkles in Suga’s eyes as he waited for Akaashi to explain the details 

“Well…” There was the whole dad thing he wanted to tell them about, because they actually knew about that whole situation. “We’re not necessarily  _ together _ ,” he trailed off, rolling his eyes again at his friends’ exasperated expressions, desperate to hear more. “But I mean… we kind of confessed to each other I guess and kissed.”

“Keiji that’s  _ huge  _ news!  _ Gah _ , you’ve finally got him!” Oikawa and Suga hugged dramatically -- almost comically, forcing a laugh out of Akaashi despite being slightly embarrassed. He had never told his friends about actually having feelings for someone, and it felt a little awkward to. It was different from telling Suna and Terushima, for the simple fact that they  _ needed  _ to know that Akaashi would soon stop seeing them, and those were the people he had always been unapologetically transparent with. 

He wished it could be that easy with Kuroo. 

“I mean… not necessarily…” But then he was forced into their bone crushing embrace as well and he let out a grunt when he felt his arms get crushed into his ribcage, but he let them have their little moment. Because, even if he hadn’t vocally said it, he was happy about the whole thing as well.

“Ok but, is it really a good idea for you and Terushima to be  _ alone  _ together?  _ Especially  _ in your apartment?” Suga asked. 

“I do have self control Koushi.”

“But do you really?” Oikawa questioned, cocking an eyebrow at the man.

“Shut up, yes I do.”

_______________

  
  


Akaashi stepped into his apartment, taking his shoes off and sighed at the familiarity of Terushima’s scent that had filled the living room. He smelled of Akaashi’s favorite cologne he made him buy and the natural musk his body gave off. He was on the sofa, legs splayed apart with his phone pressed to his ear, clearly on some sort of important call -- which he had begun excusing himself from as soon as he saw Akaashi taking off his coat.

“Hey,” Akaashi plopped down next to him, holding back the urge to get into his lap. “Did I interrupt you?”

“No worries, they can wait.” Terushima’s hands were twitching at his sides, clearly refraining from touching Akaashi as well. 

“Ugh, this is all a mess Terushima.” Akaashi rested his elbows on his knees and shoved his face into his hands, holding back from pulling at his hair or picking at his nails. “I wish this wasn’t so hard. Because… I don’t want to stop seeing you or Suna or Atsumu or Kuroo or Ushijima… I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself if I only have one person to run to.”

“If you have to think about it so hard, is he really someone worth questioning your relationships over?”

Akaashi sighed and leaned back onto the couch. “The thing is nobody has ever made me question my ways like this. That’s how I know this isn’t just some dumb little fling -- it’s more, and I want it to be too. Just because I’m struggling with these parts of myself doesn’t trace it back to him, this is all a  _ me  _ problem. Also, I’m fucking his best friend and his best friend is like  _ in love  _ with me, so there’s that to add to the flame.”

“That’s quite a mess you’ve got in your hands Akaashi,” Terushima chuckled, falling back onto the couch, mirroring the man next to him. He craned his neck to stare at Akaashi, but Akaashi kept his gaze on the ceiling. “Don’t look at me like that,” Akaashi groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as if that would purge the temptation out of him.

“Or what?”

“No, none of that. Let’s talk about money, our favorite thing!” Akaashi clasped his hands together and plastered a fake, composed smile onto his face in hopes of feeling less guilty about wanting to rip off Terushima’s stupid flannel. “So you want to keep the financial things the same, right? Even the legal team stuff?”

“Yes,  _ especially  _ the legal team stuff. Of course, that’s if you still want it and if your partner is ok with it as well.”

What a weird set up that would be, Akaashi thought. To have Bokuto as his significant other, still be receiving money from his ex-sugar daddy, and having fucked Bokuto’s best friend who also had feelings for Akaashi,  _ and  _ sleeping with one of his teammates,  _ and  _ that teammates boyfriend. It was a recipe for disaster, it suddenly dawned on Akaashi. It was like everything ever was pining  _ against  _ them working out. 

But Akaashi wanted it to work. So bad. 

“I would appreciate the financial help. But, it wouldn’t be the death of me either if Bokuto wasn’t ok with it -- and I’ll make sure he knows that when I tell him. I was never dumb with the money you gave me so I would be pretty well off anyways with what I have saved up. But why do you want to? You’re not getting anything in exchange for it.”

“Well, because I grew quite fond of you,” Terushima was smiling fondly at him. “Not in an ‘I’m in love you’ way. But I just enjoyed having you around, you healed the distrust I’d been burdened with after my ex-wife and this is just me thanking you, because there’s no other real way I could that wasn’t too intimate for the both of us. Me wanting to keep helping you even without getting anything in exchange is me simply repaying you for your time with me -- which is priceless may I add.”

Akaashi’s lips twitched up into a small smile and he let out a muffled laugh, smacking Terushima’s broad chest lightly. A habit he picked up from Suga, as he very obviously  _ loved  _ hitting his friends. Akaashi let his hand stay there, on the expanse of muscles that twitched under his touch and fingered at the buttons of his wrinkle-free flannel. He let a thin finger slide in between the space where the buttons were sewn into, frowning to himself when he came into contact with the fabric that was the tee he was wearing under and instead began slowly unbuttoning the top button. 

“If you keep doing that…”

“Can’t help myself,” Akaashi could feel his own voice dripping with desire. He had settled onto Terushima’s lap, legs on either side of the blonde’s thighs, and his fingers were undoing his shirt at record speed. Akaashi pushed his shirt off his shoulders and brought their faces closer, feeling Terushima’s ragged breath on his lips. 

“Touch me, c’mon.”

“You’re going to regret this Akaashi.”

“You were the one that started the teasing.  _ Please  _ touch me,” he whined. 

Akaashi sighed at the feeling of large hands cupping his ass and kneading the flesh through his jeans and pressed his lips against Terushima’s immediately, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline flooding into his veins at the sensation of Terushima’s hands on his body. Akaashi wrapped his arms around the older man’s neck, sighing desperately into the kiss and whining when Terushima pushed up his shirt and took a nipple into his mouth; they were still sensitive from when he had seen Suna earlier that day and made his back arch when Terushima bit down lightly on the bud. 

Then suddenly, the doorbell rang throughout Akaashi’s apartment, and the two stiffened. Terushima automatically pulled down Akaashi’s shirt and Akaashi scrambled off of his lap, heading towards the door and trying to smooth out his shirt. He opened the door, but only slightly as so the person who knocked wouldn’t be able to see into his living room.

“Oh, Kuroo.”

“Hey,” he smiled softly, going in to press a kiss to Akaashi’s lips. He panicked and turned his head, taking a step back from him. If Akaashi was  _ actually  _ going to have  _ some  _ sort of self control, it had to be with Kuroo. There was no way that he could come back from letting Kuroo kiss him then go and have to tell Bokuto that. Akaashi saw Kuroo furrow his brows in confusion and took a step back as well. There was takeout in his hands.

_ Of course this would happen _ , Akaashi thought. Now he can’t just kindly turn him down.

Akaashi motioned with his hands behind his back for Terushima to get out of the living room and pointed towards his room. His light steps were heard -- only by Akaashi, he hoped -- and he opened the door more to let Kuroo in.

“Um, is right now not a good time?” Kuroo asked, awkwardly stepping in. 

“No, you’re fine,” his smile was forced, and he could tell that Kuroo noticed. 

“Well, in that case… I brought takeout!” He grinned, holding it proudly in the air, making Akaashi snort out a laugh. He closed the door behind Kuroo and sucked in a breath when he saw Terushima’s flannel strewn across the couch in all its glory.

This was going to be a rough mess to get out of. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> early update!! ok kind of a wild chapter ngl BAHAHA lots of bad things going on,,, sooo let me know what you guys think hehe 
> 
> (also the song for this chap is v diff from the rest [if you know/listen to them] but this one goes VERY well w this chap so i really recommend listening! i'm thinking about making a spotify playlist w all the songs and posting the link on next update but idk??)
> 
> \- L


	22. Japanese Denim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for chapter: Japanese Denim - Daniel Caesar
> 
> \--
> 
> the link to the spotify playlist w all the songs for the fic (which are the titles, obvs) is in the beginning of the chapter! i'll be adding the link to the playlist in all updates (old and new) :)

[ **Heartless playlist (spotify)** ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4nhrqiKUY5gJBPbEo0kqCK?si=ksFouCJcTpqY3chfABf43w)

Their empty takeout containers were laid out across the coffee table of Akaashi’s living room, Terushima was still hidden in his room, and Kuroo cuddled into one of the younger’s blankets. Some movie Kuroo had rented was playing on the flat screen, but Akaashi’s mind was a million miles away. 

His stomach was churning in nervousness, it was hard to eat the food Kuroo had brought despite it being from Akaashi’s favorite place. He excused himself to go use the restroom and headed into his room, closing the door behind him and let out a shaky sigh. Terushima was splayed out on his bed reading some article on his phone when he had flinched into a sitting position when Akaashi had walked in.

“ _ Jesus _ !” Akaashi whisper-yelled. “What the fuck am I going to do?”

“I mean as long as he doesn’t come in here I don’t see the problem --”

“ _ No  _ Terushima! That’s  _ him  _ \-- that’s Bokuto’s best friend! Oh god, do I bring it up now? Is this an appropriate time? Shit, what if he connects two and two because you left your  _ goddamn  _ shirt  _ and  _ shoes out there and -- and he tells Bokuto and -- oh  _ god  _ why did I kiss you --”

Hands squeezed his shoulders and he was suddenly (somewhat) grounded, staring up at Terushima with wide eyes and a heaving chest. “You’re fine, just breathe. You… don’t have to tell him  _ who  _ you’re seeing yet. Just say you’ve met someone you’re taking seriously and go from there.”

Akaashi let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding in and let his shoulders drop slightly. “You’re right,” he said, sighing softly before ushering Terushima’s hands off him. Even this innocent touch riddled Akaashi with a guilt that made his stomach churn. He could feel himself beginning to get overwhelmed at all these sudden feelings, and Kuroo was at the top of those worries. 

Akaashi shouldn’t have seen Suna. 

He shouldn’t have invited Terushima and kissed him.

Opening the door to Kuroo was one of  _ the  _ biggest mistakes he’s made today. And that says a lot, given he was getting absolutely railed midday. 

He took one last breath for composure and made his way back to the living room, where Kuroo held his arm open for Akaashi to cuddle up on his side. Akaashi hesitated, seemingly not able to hold back from making a face, and Kuroo dropped his arm with furrowed brows.

“Is something on your mind? What’s going on? You’ve been weird all night,” Kuroo’s voice was filled with worry, clearly not in a tone of anger, which made Akaashi relax only slightly. He plopped down besides Kuroo, keeping a safe distance from him, however, the couch was small so it wasn’t that much space in all reality. 

What would be a safe way to bring this up? Kuroo wouldn’t have an outburst or anything, right? He’s clearly been nothing but patient with Akaashi in multiple aspects of his life -- and that was  _ definitely  _ something because Akaashi wasn’t necessarily the most understanding or sympathetic person. But, if Akaashi let just  _ one  _ wrong word slip out it would be over. Kuroo would stop being friends with Bokuto and himself, probably tell Bokuto about how there was a man in his room -- if he had even noticed -- and about how he’s nothing but a good lay and that’s all Akaashi was good for. 

“Actually… yes, there is,” he began, already starting to scratch at the skin surrounding his fingernails. 

“I’m all ears,” Kuroo smiled softly at him with crinkled eyes and the guilt only bubbled even more violently in his stomach at his nurturing gaze. 

“Well… you see... I…” Akaashi trailed off, biting his lip and digging his nails into the sides of his cuticles. He could feel the skin tearing. “I’m seeing someone new.”

“Oh.” Kuroo’s smile turned tight as his lips pressed together. Akaashi didn’t miss the twitch of his eyebrow as soon as Akaashi let the words pass his lips. “So there’s someone else now? What about it?”

“No… not like  _ that _ .”

“What do you mean?” His brows quirked together. 

Akaashi bit his lip anxiously, dropping his hands to his lap when he started feeling his cuticles burn a little too much. He didn’t want to open them up again. He let out a breathy laugh at the sight of his painted nails. He had let Bokuto paint them after their whole spiel on the porch the night before; they were matching. And the color distracted from his abused cuticles.

“As in I’m seeing somebody  _ seriously _ . Kind of. Well, it’s still blurry and complicated, but I’m trying to be serious about them.”

“Oh, wow.” His brows raised in surprise. Clearly he had thought that Akaashi had gotten  _ another  _ ‘boyfriend’ as everyone liked to call them. This was probably the last thing he had expected. “Well, what does that mean then?”

“It means we can’t be having sex or doing anything of that nature anymore.”

“Oh… well that’s fine. Is this ok then? Me being here, I mean.” Kuroo’s face had obviously dropped and it made Akaashi want to reach out and touch him. But he couldn’t. There could be no comforting of any kind, because then it would lead to other things, and it was clear Akaashi had shit self restraint. What happened with Suna and Terushima had already felt like it punched a huge hole into his stomach, the guilt was so overwhelming he didn’t know what to do with himself.

He couldn’t afford to fuck up anymore.

Bokuto had given him space to take his time with his feelings and Akaashi was abusing that  _ and  _ the trust he had placed in Akaashi. Because  _ no  _ they weren’t ‘official’ but where was Akaashi supposed to draw the line? Though he had very obviously crossed it within an hour of not being in Bokuto’s presence. He didn’t do this type of thing, how was he supposed to know what was right and wrong after years of solely having purely sexual relationships? Despite that, he knew better than to be doing these things. He shouldn’t have even let Kuroo inside. 

Akaashi cursed his dense head and impulsivity.

“I mean… we’re not doing anything wrong. Besides, it was a good thing in the end anyways because now I got to tell you. And in person and not over the phone like some asshole.”

“... I guess, but this is kind of out of the blue. You had never mentioned anyone new. Did you just meet them or something?”

_ Here come the dreaded questions _ , Akaashi thought. He tried his best to hold back his sigh and pursed his lips instead.

“No, I’ve known them for a while.”

Kuroo furrowed his brows and let out a hum, to make it clear he had heard what Akaashi had said. He had taken the clear hint that he didn’t want to elaborate any further. “You really should have said something before I tried to kiss you when I came in, you know. I'd hate to disrespect you and your new relationship."

Akaashi sighed, “I know. I just didn’t know how to bring it up before. Obviously I don’t usually do these types of things so… I get awkward and I can’t help it.”

_ No, it’s actually because it’s your friend. We took a life changing trip to our hometown where we realized we’ve liked each other since high school and this is the first chance I’m getting to tell you _ . The guilt was making bile rise up his throat in a vile way. 

At that, Kuroo let out a cackle and Akaashi couldn’t help but to laugh along softly with him. 

“I’m not upset or angry Akaashi, this is a good thing! I’m happy for you two.”

Kuroo’s eyes said otherwise.

He left soon after, as the movie they had been watching had finished and the tension was becoming a bit unbearable. It was odd seeing Kuroo become so awkward and stiff around Akaashi, it was something he had never experienced before with the older man. Things between them had become so natural since they had also started being friends. Kuroo would drop in on Akaashi’s apartment when he wasn’t busy with school, work, or his band, and Akaashi would call him to ask about his day from time to time -- even popping into Kuroo’s apartment at times.

But now, Akaashi had a feeling that it was all going to come to an end very soon.

It was obvious that Bokuto hadn’t talked to him yet, and Akaashi didn’t necessarily have the right to. Bokuto held a much more important role in Kuroo’s life compared to Akaashi and he still wasn’t even sure how Bokuto wanted to approach all this. How do you even bring something like that up?  _ God,  _ Akaashi couldn’t even imagine.

Bokuto's situation would be the equivalent of Akaashi going up to Suga or Oikawa and telling them he took a trip with their boyfriends and had fallen head over heels for him. Akaashi shuddered at the thought as he closed the front door. 

Part of him was a little sad, just like that same part of him was sad he wouldn’t be able to see all his other ‘boyfriends.’ Not being in regular contact with Kuroo and Terushima was going to be hard. He had been so used to having them around,  _ especially  _ Terushima. But this all had to be worth it. Of course it was. It was Bokuto. Even just reminiscing about their time in Shimoda made butterflies bombard Akaashi’s stomach and made his head spin in the best of ways. 

Bokuto made Shimoda a good place now. He made everywhere and everything the best place ever. 

That was all Akaashi could ever ask for from a person.

And so he decided he knew what to do. He called for Terushima to come out of the room and watched as the blond peered the corner with wide eyes. It made Akaashi snort out a laugh and pat the spot besides him on the couch. 

“So what happened?” Terushima unceremoniously plopped down besides Akaashi with curiosity in his eyes. 

“I did what you said. I told him I’m seeing someone new and that I can’t be with him anymore and he knew not to press any further.”

“Ok so now what?”

“Now… let’s talk about you and I,” Akaashi pulled the blanket up to his chin and leaned back on the couch, watching as Terushima had mirrored him. 

He looked afraid of what Akaashi was going to say. Like he was going to deal the killing shot in a game and he was on the opposite team. It wasn’t bad in Akaashi’s eyes, though. This should have been the very obvious decision from the very beginning. But now, not clouded with lust and a belly full of takeout, Akaashi felt  _ very  _ sure about what he wanted to happen.

“I don’t want any of your money. Not the rent or the allowance or the money for the legal team.”

Terushima’s face visibly dropped at that and Akaashi bit his lip to hold back comforting words. Nothing he could say would help soothe him. And besides, he didn’t  _ know  _ how to comfort Terushima. They had never been in a position for the entirety of the -- almost -- three years they had been seeing each other where Akaashi had to comfort him.

“Why?” Was all Terushima could muster out.

“Because I’ll be ok without it, I don’t need it. And Bokuto doesn’t need to be stressed by a third party doing things for me that they would do  _ if  _ we were still together. I know you know how it feels to have these types of things done behind your back… and it doesn’t feel good, does it?” Terushima shook his head and Akaashi continued on. “He wouldn’t do that to me, so I shouldn’t do it to him. Plus, I’ve already done a lot of…  _ not  _ good things today and I don’t want to do anymore.”

“Are… are you sure about this?”

Akaashi nodded. “Do you have any idea how much money you gave me in the span of  _ three years  _ Terushima?”

“Oh god, don’t even tell me,” he chuckled, defeated. Akaashi let out a small laugh, but it quickly faded at Terushima’s dropping face. 

“You’re going to be ok, Yuji. You lived like an _entire_ century before me, so you can live another without me, yeah? If you even live that long, old man.” Akaashi put a hand on top of Terushima’s who laughed lightly.

“It’s going to be weird not being around you.”

“It’s going to be weird for me too. But we’ve had enough fun for, like, a hundred lives, don’t you think?” They smiled warmly at each other, Terushima’s eyes were glossy. 

Memories of them together flashed behind Akaashi’s eyes. Spending his birthday in Las Vegas, going to fancy restaurants and clubs all over the world. France, Spain, Italy, America, Mexico -- there were almost too many places to remember. But they were all things Akaashi would never forget. He remembered the time Akaashi had forced Terushima let him drive his car to a pretty view about half an hour outside of Tokyo where they went and broke cheap plates and cups after Terushima had finalized his divorce -- coincidentally the same time Akaashi had started up his case as well -- and they let out their anger on the ceramic objects. All the shopping trips together and holidays spent with one another when Akaashi wasn’t able to see his parents. 

They were each other's constant thing in their lives full of so much change.

But it was time to let go, no matter how much they both didn’t want to. 

Terushima excused himself for what would be the last time from Akaashi’s apartment. Akaashi didn’t hug him, even though he wanted to -- which was odd for him. But he finally had gained the self control he should have had the moment that he wasn’t with Bokuto. 

He closed the front door after Terushima walked out and sighed, pressing himself against the door and letting himself slide down to the floor, knees pressed against his chest.

This was all going to be a lot harder than he had thought. If it hadn’t been for Shimoda, a lot of things wouldn’t have happened, but now, when he was all alone, he was starting to wonder if this was a good thing or not.

Surely his feelings had to mean something right? There was no way he wouldn’t have felt the need to tell _three_ people \-- well, technically four because Suna was sure to tell Atsumu before Akaashi got the chance -- he wouldn’t be able to see them anymore. It wasn’t that he felt pressured by Bokuto to do so, he _wanted_ to. They hadn’t even talked about Akaashi doing it as soon as they came back to Tokyo.

But part of Akaashi knew that some part of Bokuto also expected him to, and that part of Akaashi was the one acting on it so suddenly. 

He just hoped it would all work out in the end. 

Because being alone felt horrible. Not having options available or having a safe blanket of lovers felt even worse.

Akaashi’s phone began to ring and he sighed, taking it out of his hoodie. He pressed it to his ear, expecting it to be Suga or Oikawa because  _ who the fuck else would it be _ ?

“Hi Keiji,” his voice made Akaashi immediately perk up.

“Bokuto-san, hi,” Akaashi’s voice was even smaller, shy even.

“I know we like, just got home after spending  _ days  _ together but… can I go see you? I’m sad.” His usually booming voice and very big presence was nowhere to be heard, and it made Akaashi frown deeply.

“Of course, you can stay over if you’d like.” The words had left Akaashi’s mouth without his permission, but he didn’t regret them. 

“I’ll be over in a few and… do you have an extra toothbrush?”

Akaashi laughed softly over the line, “Yes Bokuto.”

_______________

  
  


Bokuto arrived at Akaashi’s apartment no more than ten minutes later, his gym bag in hand. His hair was down, and on any other day it would have made Akaashi’s stomach flutter, but not with the aura he was giving off at the moment.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Akaashi was immediately engulfed in a strong hug and it made him flinch slightly, not used to Bokuto touching him without asking. It took a moment for him to hug back, and even then he could feel himself being tense and awkward. He couldn’t help it though. It wasn’t often Akaashi would embrace people. He had never been the kind to do so — it would always be small comforting touches of hands, or brushing thighs — holding hands was even weird for him, but not with Bokuto. But hugs were something completely different. Akaashi didn’t even hug Oikawa or Suga -- not regularly at least.

However, Akaashi found himself stroking Bokuto’s back tenderly, chin propped on the man’s bulky shoulder. The breath had been squeezed out of him, but he embraced him unwaveringly.

Bokuto didn’t respond, simply sighed before pulling away and kicking off his shoes. Akaashi took that as his que to go have a seat on the couch -- he had wanted to leave his blanket not wrapped around him, as an invitation for Bokuto, but decided against it. As much as he didn’t want to, Akaashi had reached his limit of affection for the day -- or was close to it. He wasn’t used to seeing so many people in one day, it was overwhelming. 

That'd probably change though, Akaashi assumed. 

“I just --  _ ugh _ ,” Bokuto groaned, plopping down besides Akaashi. He eyed the takeout on the coffee table curiously, shooting Akaashi a look that made him flinch up and start picking them up. He threw them away quickly, hoping to have given Bokuto a minute to sort out how he wanted to express his feelings. “I feel so bad and guilty and -- I don’t know --  _ disgusting _ ! I’m gonna die.”

“Well, that’s… a lot of overwhelming feelings,” Akaashi said calmly, sitting down besides him, covering Bokuto’s legs with his blanket. “Is this about Kuroo?” It was the only thing Akaashi knew to be weighing him down, and he was right by the sagging on Bokuto’s shoulders. He pressed their legs together, motioning for Bokuto to go on.

“He called me earlier to invite me to go see his band this weekend, but I -- how am I going to tell him? I don’t even think I’ll be able to look him in the eyes after this, that’s if he doesn’t hate me and never speaks to me again.”

Guilt settled into the pit of Akaashi’s stomach again and he sighed softly, frown matching Bokuto’s whose eyes were settled onto the carpet below them.

“Do you really think Kuroo could be that harsh? I -- well, he was here not that long ago actually,” Akaashi murmured. At that Bokuto stiffened and looked at Akaashi with hooded eyes. “And what happened?” He asked, a furrow between his brows.

“Well, we talked about it --” Bokuto gasped, cutting off Akaashi. “ _ But _ , I didn’t say it was you. I just said I met someone new… that I had planned on taking seriously.”

“You sap.”

“Shut up, I’m no sap,” Akaashi grumbled, crossing his arms defensively over his chest with pink tinted cheeks. “ _ Anyways _ , he didn’t seem angry when I told him, but I could tell he was upset. I mean,  _ I  _ also feel bad Bo, but it’s better we tell him sooner than later.”

“You’re right, but I just don’t know how. Even when nothing had happened between you and I, I still couldn’t even muster up to tell him that we were just hanging out and stuff.”

“I mean, we never really did anything wrong before Shimoda…”

Bokuto shot him a deadpan face, and Akaashi narrowed his eyes at him.

“Maybe  _ you  _ did, but  _ I  _ didn’t,” Akaashi teased, playfully leaning into Bokuto’s side and resting his head on his shoulder who chuckled lowly. “I’m sorry this has gotten so messy,” Akaashi rubbed Bokuto’s knee gently under the blanket. The feeling of his warm skin made his palms scorch. “The last thing I wanted was to be the cause of something like this, I’d hate to be the reason things get tense between you two.”

“Mmm it’s not your fault,” Bokuto hummed, nuzzling into Akaashi’s hair. He smelled like coffee and sweets, along with his natural scent. “Ew, don’t, I haven’t showered,” Akaashi grimaced, pushing Bokuto away. The silver haired man rolled his eyes but let him have his way.

A small silence enveloped them for a minute, their knees were still touching, Akaashi practically had his long legs draped over Bokuto’s lap. Akaashi could clearly tell that Bokuto was in his head about this whole thing, and it was definitely taking a toll on him. The expression he had right now was one totally different from just yesterday when they were in their hometown. 

“Do you want to keep talking about it?”

“No, just being here with you makes it better.”

“I think you’re the sap, Bokuto-san.”

“You’re not wrong.”

Akaashi left Bokuto watching some nature documentary on the tv in the living room after making him a cup of tea, despite Bokuto insisting that he, ‘didn’t want Akaashi’s sleepy time tea.’ He went to go shower in the restroom in his room and sighed as the hot water poured over his tense muscles. 

He had put on a nice  façade  for Bokuto, but it was hard to remain calm with him there. All the guilt had resurfaced from  _ all  _ the things he had done today. He wanted to tell him, but part of him didn’t want him to know so Akaashi wouldn’t hurt his feelings.

But he had to be transparent, right?

Bokuto had to know what he was getting himself into. This wasn’t Shimoda anymore, where Akaashi’s booty calls were hours away and it had been physically impossible to call any of them up. He sighed as he scrubbed his shampoo into his hair, reveling in the feeling of finally feeling clean again. 

He was going to stay the night as well, and it was going to be awkward, Akaashi thought. There would be the dreaded conversation of,  _ do you want to sleep in the guest room, the couch, or with me _ ? It was probably Akaashi overthinking, but they definitely  _ had  _ grown a lot closer in Shimoda and he didn’t want Bokuto to think he didn’t want to sleep with him --  _ not in  _ **_that_ ** _ way --  _ Akaashi just had intimacy issues. Sleeping with Terushima that one night left him restless, and if Akaashi loved anything in this world it was sleep. 

He lathered his scalp with the leave-in conditioner for his curls and scrubbed at his body with his body wash. Part of him hoped Bokuto would just knock out on the couch, but he also wanted to see him. As much as Akaashi didn’t want to admit it, he had grown accustomed to having him around after those three days they spent together. It was almost weird having gone most of the day without talking with him.

However, he couldn’t deny the fact that Bokuto running to Akaashi in a moment where he was overwhelmed with emotions had made his insides warm and twist and turn in the best way possible. He was happy that Bokuto felt comfortable enough to do so, as Akaashi knew that it was hard for Bokuto to be open about how he was feeling with others. When they were in high school, he had always felt like he was being dramatic or a pest, and Akaashi had always made sure to reassure him that he was everything but that. 

Akaashi gave himself one last rinse before drying himself and shrugging some comfortable clothes on. He had to tell him, and that was what he decided on. There’s no option, Bokuto had to know and he also had to know what was going on with Akaashi. 

And so when Akaashi sat down next to Bokuto — a little too violently — with a determined expression on his face that almost made him spill his tea, there was no going back. 

“You’re done talking about your feelings, but now it’s my turn,” Akaashi said, voice just as firm as his face. 

“... Ok, go on.”

“I did bad things today and you need to know. If you’re going to be romantically involved with me, you need to know the type of person I  _ really  _ am.”

Bokuto nodded slowly.

“For the past three years I’ve been sleeping with multiple men — sometimes women, but rarely — at a time. Not usually one night stands, I see these people for years or months, but I don’t build emotional relationships with them. I’m scared of intimacy — for obvious reasons — I don’t know how to be affectionate, I suck at comforting people sometimes, I can’t share beds with people or hold hands with them or do dumb little domestic sappy things, because I don’t know how. I’ve never done  _ serious  _ relationships, because I have a fear that if I do, that person will take advantage of me.”

Akaashi took a deep breath and continued. 

“There’s five men I’ve been seeing consistently for a while. You know three of them. Terushima Yuji, who had been my sugar daddy for the past, like, three years. He was here earlier, I kissed him but I regret it. Suna Rintaro and Miya Atsumu — yes,  _ the  _ Miya Atsumu. They’re a couple but I just had sex with them sometimes, together and separately. I saw Suna right after you dropped me off today and I had sex with him. Regret that too. Ushijima Wakatoshi — again, yes,  _ the  _ Ushijima. Didn't really care for him but he’s still part of all this. And lastly, Kuroo.”

He sighed, keeping his eyes off Bokuto’s. He was probably going to hate him, scream at him, call him a bunch of bad names, and leave him all by himself after all this. He was going to think Akaashi was some disgusting whore not worthy of his time. 

“I’ve been seeing him for less than a year. It was never intimate until after that fight we had and we started being friends. First time I’ve ever done that — it’s why I feel so guilty about all this. If it was anyone else I wouldn’t. Bokuto, I —“ Akaashi let out a shaky breath, clenching his fists so as to not pick at his fingers. “I have a lot of baggage and I’m a really messed up person and I don’t know how to do any of these things, but I’m trying... for you. I — I know I did bad things, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you were to hate me for them but… you need to know that this is who I am. I’m going to try and change though, make myself better. But I don’t want to hide these parts of myself from you, because you need to know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“You know,” Bokuto started, brows furrowed. “That’s the most I’ve  _ ever _ heard you speak in our entire lives.”

Akaashi’s mouth hung open. He smacked Bokuto’s chest and felt a blush prick at his cheeks. “Did you even catch anything I said?” Akaashi murmured, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment.

What he had said was  _ heavy  _ — he never talked about these things with anybody except his close friends and Kiyoko. Akaashi was treading on new, undiscovered territory of himself and he didn’t know how to feel. 

Because sure, this was a good thing for  _ Akaashi  _ but how was Bokuto going to feel knowing that this was the type of person that he was? What if he regretted telling Akaashi his feelings and took back his confession? If they stopped being friends over this, Akaashi knew it would send him down a deep spiral, one he had yet to experience for years. 

Akaashi was scared of losing Bokuto.

“I’m not going to bash you for the things you used to do and did today, Keiji.”

Akaashi tried to find the lie in his face, but came across nothing but sincere eyes. 

Bokuto’s hand came to graze the side of Akaashi’s face with gentle fingers. The callouses along the tips of his digits made goosebumps pimple up the curly haired boy's spine and arms, yet he couldn’t help but lean into his touch and close his eyes in content. It made warmness and familiarity bloom within his chest and he felt himself smiling at the simple yet intimate touch. 

Akaashi hadn’t realized how calming it actually was until now and how much he enjoyed it. 

“I already told you I’d wait, right? I don’t expect you to not fall back into your ways, they’re  _ still  _ habits after all, that’s no reason to get angry. And there’s nothing wrong with the things you used to do. I’m not upset, if anything I’m glad you told me. I know you expected me to, but I don’t want you to think that you’re ‘too much to handle’ or that your baggage makes you less appealing -- like I’ve  _ already  _ said. You’re  _ not  _ your baggage. You’re Keiji, you’re you. And that’s more than enough for me,” Bokuto smiled — as if the words he had said didn’t hold the meaning that they did. Like that wasn’t the nicest thing anybody has ever said to Akaashi. 

“I —“ Akaashi cut himself off with a small chuckle, feeling his eyes tear up and averted his gaze to the floor. Bokuto’s hand was still on his cheek so he couldn’t hide his face as much as he had hoped to. “You’re too nice to me, Bokuto-san.”

“It’s what you deserve,” Bokuto turned Akaashi’s face towards his, a bit forcefully, but Akaashi didn’t mind it. Their eyes were looking into one another’s now. 

“I’m not sure I do.”

“I’m not the type to blow up on people, and you know that. I won’t lie, I’m a little jealous, but you don’t belong to me -- you’re not some  _ thing  _ I own. You’re a grown man, you can make your own decisions. Besides, we’re not dating yet or anything.”

_ Yet _ , Akaashi smiled.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a very sweet chapter, i hope you guys enjoyed, let me know how you guys felt about it! and again, the spotify playlist for the fic is in the beginning, so if you guys would like to give that a listen you can and i would really appreciate it! :)
> 
> \- L


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